When Something Goes Wrong
by EmmettMcFly55
Summary: As Marty crashes into the Courthouse heading for the lightning he's stranded in the 50s. Will he be able to recover from his accident and from the shock he's stuck in the past forever? Prologue of the Stranded In A Foreign Time Series. Now finished!
1. Chapter 1

(Once again) A new story, this time based on Kristen Sheley's (If I wrote the name wrong, just say it. I never write it the good way) Hill Valley Chronicles, in which Marty is stuck in 1885 with Doc and Clara - this time, he's stuck in 1955. This story is actually the prologue - I hope I'll finish it soon, and when I do, I'll be adding the first part of the serie, called (the serie, then) Stranded In A Foreign Time.

Anyway... hope you like it. Review!

PS: I don't exactly need suggestions this time - I already got a couple of ideas, like having Doc meeting a far relative of Clara and finally marrying her - and having Marty marry Mary Parker. But, the ones who've red Travelling Through Dimensions - I mean the last chapter 'til now, about the Calvin Klein Universe - have probably already guessed this.

**Chapter**** One**

_Saturday, November 12, 1955  
10:01 PM PST  
Hill Valley, California _

Marty McFly was really nervous right now. To do not say really, really nervous. He was doing an experiment with Dr. Emmett Brown, known as "Crazy Old Doc Brown". And if that wasn't strange enough, this experiment would be having major effects on the rest of his life.

The DeLorean time machine, as the vehicle was called he was driving in, was speeding with a speed of about 60 miles per hour towards the spot where the "START HERE" line was pointed. Yes, a time machine. A time machine which was supposed to drag Marty, an 1980s boy, back to the future. A future which he never attempted to leave, but which he was dragged back in while escaping the terrorists.

Marty couldn't help himself but smile, as he recalled the shocking moments of the first unveiling of the time machine, still thirty years away. He had lived through events more shocking soon afterwards. Seeing Doc, his best friend, shot by terrorists. Driving away from them, accidentally ending up in 1955. Stopping his parents from falling in love, and spending an entire week to bring them back together. In fact, it wasn't until one hour ago they actually got together – and Marty's future life was saved.

In a swing, the teenager pulled the time machine to a halt after the line. He opened the gull-wing door, got out and connected the hook which was supposed to hit the line above the street which would catch the lightning at the same moment less than three minutes in the future. If only that worked, Marty would return to the future. And the teen was sure it worked.

Returning in the car, Marty tried to think of nice thoughts. But soon enough the thought came back in his mind – Doc would be shot by terrorists. He really didn't want to make his friend meet such a future, but he had done everything. "Dammit Doc" the teenager muttered, "Why did you have to tear up that letter? If only I had more time..."

Then, a thought occurred to him. "Wait a minute, I got all the time I want! I got a time machine! I'll just go back early and warn him." He began putting in the new destination time on the keypad. As he succeeded, he smiled. "10 minutes ought to do it."

The proud teenager turned around to look over all the inventions in the thing. "Time circuits on, flux capacitor…" he had a hard time to think of a word, "fluxing, engine running, all right!" Right then, the engine stopped running.

"No, no, no, no, no, c'mon, c'mon!" Marty called out, nervously trying to start the engine again. And quick – the time circuits turned to 10.02 now. "C'mon, c'mon, here we go, this time. Please, please, c'mon!" It didn't work, however. Hopeless lost, the teenager slammed his hand on the horn – causing the car to start working!

_Yes! I don't know how, but it works! Let's go McFly!_

Marty pressed the gas and sped off towards the Courthouse. The time was coming close now – less than two minutes, maybe even less than hundred seconds. To his relief, the speed went faster quick. Okay, this just had to stay so, and it would work.

Speeding up the car even more, Marty smiled as the needle hit 60 miles per hour on the dashboard. Still, he was going faster and faster. Yup, Doc's experiment sure was going to work.

The teenager waved some sweat before his face away and saw to his relief the speed was now 73…74…75. The clock said 10.03 – it was only a minute to go before the lightning would strike the clock tower. And everything was fine. Marty would go back home.

Then, something unexpected happened. A huge bolt of lightning struck the tree Marty was riding next to, and a huge branch of the tree hit the front window of the DeLorean. "Shit!!" the teenager called, hopeless trying to avoid obstacles, but the tree branch was in his way. _"Damn! Why had this thing to happen now!"_ The time machine began to swerve to the left, than to the right, than back to the left… than it swerved back to the right, hitting a trash can. The time machine was lanced into the air and landed on… or better, crashed against the wall of the Courthouse a few hundred metres further. The dreams to return were over.

Doc Brown was smiling when he saw the DeLorean heading his way. The time machine worked, everything worked. He just had to connect the cable. He was about to swerve down to the ground, when he saw something strange happen. A tree got struck by lightning, a branch fell on the time machine and it began to swerve dramatically.

"_Great Scott! What's happening!" _Doc thought, looking at the time vehicle, but at the same time it hit a trash can and was crashed to the wall of the Courthouse, smashed into pieces.

The inventor knew what to do right away. The lightning bolt was not important anymore – he was even more worried if the teenager would even get out of the accident alive. He connected the wires and slipped along them down. Just as he hit the ground, lightning struck the clock tower as it just turned to 10.04 PM. Doc didn't care about it anymore. The health of Marty was right now more important to concern.

As Doc reached the DeLorean, he saw it had, indeed, crashed. The time machine was not to repair anymore – the seats had been destroyed, the flux capacitor rolled out of it in two pieces and when Doc opened the gull-wing door he saw the time circuits dying out, for the last time displaying the Destination Time: October 26th 1985 01:24 AM. Doc didn't care he'd inputted 1:35 – the crash might've changed it, after all – but he searched someone else. And that was when he found him.

Marty was clanged between two destroyed seats, blood all over his body. His head was wounded deep, and he didn't look really living. But the scientist still heard his heart beating. _"Good, at least he's alive"_ the scientist thought relieved and tried to move his friend out of the vehicle. It gave him a hard time, hurting himself more than once, but after a few minutes, he'd finally succeed.

The scientist went to the kid with a huge pile of concern. "Marty" he whispered. The teenager didn't react. "Marty. It's me, it's Doc."

That seemed to wake up the teenager a little, but he still didn't move. "Marty, it's me. Say something, Marty. Marty, wake up. Wake up, Marty." No response. He'd have to carry him to his Packard.

Doc picked up the unconscious teenager and dragged him away. The little height of the teen surprised him, but that was probably because he was really small for his age. Doc wouldn't have cared anyway.

As the 35-year-old finally placed Marty on the seat next to him, he was feeling really nervous. What would he do when Marty would wake up? There was no way he'd be getting back to the future with the current time vehicle right now. But… could he tell Marty that? Could he tell him he was stranded a thirty years before his time? Thirteen years before he even was born?

The scientist let out a sigh, as he started driving. Marty would recover from the accident, he was sure of that piece. He'd studied medical things next to science and knew about them. But would he ever be able to recover from the fact he was stuck in 1955?

As Doc Brown entered his own house, the first thing he saw was the clock. It was 10.40, and still Marty hadn't woken up yet. He figured he might as well call the doctor to check up on "Calvin Klein". The scientist wondered how Lorraine and George were going to react when they heard Marty was hurt badly – real badly.

As the inventor putted Marty down on the bench, he sighed deep. What was he going to do now? His friend was still out, heart beating slowly. How long might it take before he'd wake up? Minutes? Hours? Even days? Weeks?

Well, there was only one person who could tell, Doc thought as he gently placed a blanket over the unconscious body. He grabbed the phone and called the town's doctor. "Yes? It's me, Dr. Emmett Brown. I'm afraid something went wrong with my nephew, Calvin Klein…"

Waiting was something Doc hated. It blew up his thoughts, it confused all over his mind. He, simply put, _couldn't_ just sit down and do nothing at all. It was so useless the scientist had no words for it.

He glanced up to the door of the room where the doctor was examining Marty. But, of course, there was no movement. He could've known better. The doctor had been in there for 33 minutes now.

Sighing, the inventor began to walk up and down the room, glancing at the clock – 11:43. And still no move. Maybe it would even take until midnight until…

"Dr. Brown?"

Startled, the scientist turned around. "Yes, doctor?" he replied nervously. If only Marty was okay…

"I came to tell you I'm ready checking up your nephew" the doctor told him. "He's fine, but he really should be getting some weeks rest. His head will probably recover soon, however it could give him a headache in the next weeks. Be prepared for that. He also should stay in bed for the next couple of days."

"Good" replied Doc, happy that Marty was okay. "What about the sleeping?"

A frown. "I beg your pardon?"

"Mar-Calvin has been unconscious since the accident, which was at approximately 10.03 PM, and that's 1 hour and 42 minutes ago now" Doc said, glancing at the clock. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Positive" the doctor smiled. "It's normal to be out for a couple of hours. Sleep is a really good medicine, so there would be nothing wrong if he sleeps through the next day. If he hasn't woken up Monday morning, though, you could as well warn me. And do that also when your nephew wakes up, so I can check him again."

The scientist grinned, still unused by people calling Marty "his nephew". "Thanks, doctor."

"No problem" replied the doctor. "What I wanted to ask you, though – how did the accident happen? I heard Calvin would be returning to his hometown this evening… did something go wrong with one of your experiments?"

"Actually, yes" said Doc, nervous because he had to lie. There was no way he'd be able to tell the truth. "Before catching the train, Calvin and I wanted to spend some time with my weather experiment, and Calvin was about to go away with my, uh, car, when lightning hit a tree, and a branch hit the car – causing Calvin to swerve, and crash the car into the Courthouse wall." At least, that wasn't a complete lie. It had been some sort of a weather experiment, and Marty was on his way home when the tree got stuck. Only, that home was not exactly where the doctor expected!

"Ah, I see" the doctor replied slowly. "Well, good luck, both of you. I've got to go home." He grabbed his cape and departed through the back door.

Doc sighed. He was back alone, now. Well, with Marty, but he didn't count, being out. Suddenly, the scientist felt a feeling of loneliness creep over him. He never had that before, although he'd lived alone in the mansion for the past twelve years.

He figured he'd gotten to use to Marty's presence, and now the teen was not around… (well, at least not conscious) he felt alone. And there was no cue when Marty would wake up. He might not even wake up that night at all.

Trying to distract his thoughts, the inventor grabbed a tape and started filming. "Date: Saturday, November 12th 1955, 11:57 PM" he babbled in the recorder. "Tonight's time travel experiment… was not exactly a success, I figure. The time vehicle was hit by a tree, causing it to swerve around, hit a trash can and crash into the Courthouse wall. I managed on my own to free Marty from the wreckage, and get him home. I called the doctor afterwards. I'm not sure how he will get back to the future now. At first, his condition has to be stabile. Then, we'll start worrying."

Doc took another glance at the teen, as he putted the tape out. He was lying down real peaceful. It was almost like he hadn't been in an accident only less than two hours ago. Although, the scientist knew that was the horrifying truth.

As he sat down, he heard the clock strike twelve long hours. Perfect. There was another 6 hours and 25 minutes to go before sunlight would brake down. 6 hours and 25 minutes too long.

The inventor putted the TV on to get some distraction. The last thing he'd had to do was sleep – he wanted to be awake when Marty would regain consciousness. How long that even might take. However… Doc was tired. Awfully tired. He'd been awake for seventeen hours now, and spent most of the time worrying about getting Marty back to the future. He was up. His energy was up. All his body wanted to was sleeping.

"Come on" the scientist told himself firmly. _"You've been awake for various long night hours during experiments, you can make this as well. Do it for Marty. He's your friend… at least he will be, one day. You owe it to him."_

The doctor in science sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time (or more) that night, as he went up and walked off to the kitchen to prepare some coffee – that, as he hoped, would clear up his mind. Probably. Hopefully.

As he dropped the coffee beans in the coffeemaker, he began to think. It was about 12:15 AM, and there was still a long night to go to wake with his friend. _"And then?"_ he thought. _"What are you gonna do when Marty wakes up? Tell him the time machine was… destroyed? Smashed, crashed, wrecked, impossible to repair damaged? Tell him he's stuck, a thirty years before his own time… a thirteen years before he even is born?" _He breathed. Telling Marty _that_ was _not_ exactly a happy foresight.

But what he'd had to do? One look at the time vehicle told him the thing would never drive again, let alone travel through time. And building another time machine while he still had to make the first one…

The worries came soon. How would Marty's presence in 1950s Hill Valley disrupt history? His family was okay – all of the siblings were back on the photograph. But if only one little thing went else the world could change drastically.

The De…Loreans? Was that how Marty called the car the time vehicle was made of? They could be invented years before they originally were. It could've a major impact on the space-time continuum. Even construct a time paradox. And the consequences of _that_ could be disastrous. It could end all live on earth, make continue of the human specie impossible… it was just too terrible to think about.

And to stop it from ever becoming reality, the scientist realised as the coffeemaker told him the coffee was ready, he'd have to go out and get the wreckage of the time vehicle over to his lab before sunlight. But how? How was he supposed to get out while he had a patient at his house who could wake up any minute… or not for a couple of hours. It was such a hopeless situation that even Doc's genius mind could barely invent a conclusion, a solution to the problem. He'd just have to wait… and, as mentioned earlier on, waiting was something Doc hated.

Still, he had to get out. He had to grab the DeLorean's wreck and bring it up to the garage where it would be hidden until the commotion had slowed down. The risk of people seeing the vehicle right now at the spot it was – right in front of what was considered the most visited place in Hill Valley, Courthouse Square, was just too big. If someone only would see it…

If he'd leave it behind it would be real news, in a few hours known by the entire town. The rumours would tell everyone a space ship had landed in Hill Valley, and everyone would get over to see it – not realising they were doing amazingly much damage to the space-time continuum. But of course, he did not exactly like the thought of going out at half an hour after midnight. But if it was for the better of the space-time continuum, he could do it.

Sighing, the inventor drank his coffee and zapped the TV out. He softly picked up the unconscious teenager next to him and carried him away to the Packard, still being worried about him really much. But, after what seemed to be an eternity, Doc had picked his stuff and mantle and drove off to the place it happened.

Doc started thinking, while driving the car. It was now impossible to repair the time vehicle, so Marty was stranded in 1950s Hill Valley. How would he do that? He could let him stay at the mansion for the next few years, interacting with as less people as possible. But would Marty be able to do that?

The teenager's words on that fateful evening he invented the flux capacitor – and first met up with him stayed repeating itself in his mind. "Stuck here?" the teen had called, his voice strangled between fear, angriness and disbelief. "I can't be stuck here!" Well, he was now. "I got a life in 1985!" Sure you have. But you'll have to leave it behind. "I got a girl!"

A girl…

Marty would have to miss her now, as well, and when she ever would be born he'd be an adult in his early thirties, not be able to date the love of his life anymore. The scientist began to feel bad for his young friend. He never had a girlfriend. Well, there were girls pretending to like him in the late thirties, and early forties, but that had stopped when he got his state as the town's crackpot by the end of World War II. They started to hate him, ignore him… maybe the last thing was even worse. Better having something bad said to him than nothing. But would Marty have to go through that hell as well? Would he…

Quickly, he thought those thoughts away. Marty was okay, at least, he didn't seem to have major injuries except his head wound but that would only leave a headache, his existence was saved on the same night… how lucky can a human being be?

_Are you really lucky when you're thrown away from your own time, stranded in another time period, forced to stay in the house of the guy who invented the thing what made you stuck? __Can you even like him afterwards and not feel angry to death every time you see him? _

Doc shook his head. Marty wouldn't think so. Well, in the first weeks maybe, but afterwards he could get used to the 1950s. It was not like he was in the Dark Ages, like it wasn't November 13th _19_55, but November 13th _13_55, and he was forced to burn as a heretic the next day…

"_But still, he's in a place and time he never wanted to come in the first place" _Doc thought. _"And I'm the fault of it. If I hadn't invented that damn time machine, none of this would ever have happened. And now I have to invent the time machine, or else we could have a time paradox. If only…" _

Another thought came up to the scientist, as he parked the Packard in front of the Square. Marty was never supposed to be send back to the fifties in the first place, according to the video. According to that, Doc would go to the year 2010, and Marty could just go home afterwards. But, what was the teen than doing up here? Had something…had something gone wrong? Doc's older self had been really scared of something on the video. And that dog… Einstein, as Marty called him, had been barking loudly. Had that something to do with all those things Marty always had tried to tell him in the past week?

Doc sighed about himself, as he stepped out of the car. Of course nothing had happened. He was all right in the future, and maybe he'd just send Marty back as a test, or because of the teen wanted to see the 1950s. A little voice in his back head told him that couldn't be true – Marty obviously hated the 50s – but he didn't want to listen to it. He was happy with his current reasoning.

As the inventor walked up to the time vehicle, he was still stunned, even now he'd seen a glance of it only two and a half hours ago. It was a wreck, over covered with rain that had dropped in the past hour. But still, it was mostly still in one piece, and hard to move. It would be a hard duty for the next time.

Sighing, Doc began on the job. The first thing he moved was the flux capacitor – it was being shattered, reminding Doc about his own barely started work on the younger version of this thing. It stuck him sad how the thing had been worked on, or would be worked on, for almost thirty years – to be intact for around a week. Yup, reality was a hard thing. A real hard thing. And it was not fair, as well. At least, that was how he saw things.

After he'd replaced the flux capacitor and lied it in the back of his Packard, he tried to move the time circuits, trying hard to do not damage anything his future self had worked on. The DeLorean was lost, but maybe the future inventions could be restored and placed in a possible new time machine. If only that would work…

Doc sighed. Nope. That wasn't reality. The time circuits had broken in two pieces, and the flux capacitor was shattered. If he only knew, how to rebuild them… but he hadn't tried anything yet, having had it too busy with the thirty-year-older version of it. A dead version.

The third thing to be replaced was the plutonium chamber. Doc was really careful about it – there might still be radiation in it. Lucky enough, the radiation suit was in the cramped back of the time vehicle, so he could bring it over to the Packard without problems. After finishing that, he continued with his work.

In this speed, it took the inventor more than two hours to replace everything. When he finally finished everything the clock in the Packard said 2:57AM – but there was no signal of any crashed DeLorean anymore.

Sighing, Doc got in the Packard. Now was everything finished – there would be no problems anymore. That, however was what he hoped. Truth can sometimes be really different.

That's why Doc was startled by the sound of a few sirens, mentioning a car heading their way. A police car. The officer had arrived.

Sometimes, things and events really happen at the wrong time.

_Nice Chapter? _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Sunday, November 13, 1955**

**03:00 AM**

**Hill Valley, California**

"_Great Scott!"_ Doc thought immediately. _"I've got to do something! I can't let them find the time machine up here. They could get suspicious – not that they could be able to take it back in time, but…"_ Working quickly, he began to push the time machine behind a bush.

The wreck was really heavy, of course, and the wheels did their work half, so Doc had it hard pushing the car away. Still, the closer coming sirens of the police car held him up. He had to push through, he had to go through with this. If the police discovered the time vehicle it could be disastrous to the entire space-time continuum. It could even create a paradox. A paradox.

Paradoxes were something Doc truly hated. The life-ending things which could stop the entire universe from existence were horrible. And even if they didn't ended up stopping the universe to cease to exist, they'd stop at least their own galaxy. No matter what, they'd be dead meat. Without even a tombstone to be around.

Given new energy by the possibility of the paradox, Doc pushed further. He'd almost pushed the DeLorean behind the huge bush, and to his relief it was being covered mostly. Finishing it, he grabbed a couple more branches. He tried to keep his thoughts by his work, his really important work, but still they drifted off to the 'what if' of the paradox.

Even if there doesn't come any paradox, Doc realised, there still will be disaster. If a bad guy – like Biff Tannen, for example – would get his hands on a working time machine, the possibilities could be endless. He could end up making himself rich and make the city a living hell. He could even kill Marty's father, even if it was only to marry Marty's mother! He could also commit the inventor, causing him to never complete the time machine so nothing could happen in the very first place…

Finally accomplishing the task, Doc sighed. The time machine was now completely covered – there was no way to recognise it anymore. Just in time, because the police car just pulled up at Courthouse Square. Luck was for once on Doc's side, he realised. If now only the wreck didn't get discovered…

Doc was not exactly _surprised_ to recognise Officer Strickland, the high-school's vice-principal's brother, as the one who first stepped out of the vehicle. Like his twin brother, he considered the inventor to be a nutcase and he had a look on his face in which you could read he wasn't surprised that Doc had gotten in trouble again.

"Good night, Officer Strickland sir" Doc said, being the first one to talk. "How are you doing this evening?" He amused himself by Strickland's angry face.

"I've no time for jokes, Brown" the officer shouted, not thinking about the fact he never had. "What are you doing up at this time of night? And no escapes. We all know that around five hours ago, you made a vehicle crash into the wall. What happened?"

"It's four hours and fifty-six minutes ago, officer" the scientist corrected him, glancing at his watch. "And about the crash… my nephew, Calvin Klein, and I were doing a weather experiment, and when he wanted to go back, he was hit by a branch of a tree which was hit by lightning just seconds earlier, and he began to swerve, hit a trash can, and crashed. I really feel bad about this, officer."

"Good" Strickland nodded. "How's your nephew now? Is he hurt? According to what I heard, it was one hell of a wreck up here. However…" he glanced over to the former place of the time vehicle, "it seems quite empty to me. Where are the remains of the vehicle?"

"At home, sir" lied Doc. This wasn't exactly true, as the remains were in the Packard, but he couldn't have them see it right now – they could also spot the time travel stuff. Having them finding out about it, didn't seem such a good foresight. "You can come see it at 9am in the morning – I've business to do right now. About my nephew – he's hurt pretty badly, and I've had the doctor looking at him about an hour after the crash. Luckily it isn't fatal, and he doesn't seem to have any major injuries, but he's still out of consciousness. You can go look him up when he wakes up."

"Okay" Strickland said, frowning at the tale the scientist told him. "We'll be at your mansion at 9am, Brown. Be prepared for our coming. We won't let any hidden spot behind! I've had enough crazy stunts of you." He departed.

"Here the same" growled Doc as the officer was gone. He hated the guy, because of all Strickland's seemed to dislike him, starting with the officer's father, Principal Strickland I, who was, on his term, son of the former Marshall in 1880s Hill Valley. The Strickland family had a long history, longer than the Browns, who had only moved to the city in 1908. They hated the Browns 'cause of they were smarter… it was a long story. Real long.

Breathing a sigh of relief that Strickland hadn't found the remains of the time machine, Doc drove to his mansion. The unconscious form, also known as Marty McFly, sitting (actually lying) next to him in the passenger's seat was sleeping peacefully, as he had been for hours now. And maybe would also be for hours. The inventor shivered, as he for one moment got the thought Marty might as well _do not wake up_. Then, he thought it away. No. That wouldn't be happening. Not at any time.

As the scientist drove up the driveway, he smiled. At least, he was home again – and that was better than being out in this weather. And when (he forced himself to do not think "if") Marty would wake up, he'd tell him all what happened and they'd try to make new plans for travelling back to the future. Back to the year 1985. Almost three decades away.

The house was quiet, as the inventor entered, and suddenly he felt the need for sleep grow up on him real hard. It had been almost twenty hours now – the last thing he wanted to was staying awake. So he grabbed a thing that might as well stop him from eventually falling asleep – the video machine that Marty brought back with him from the future. He really loved it, and was looking forward to the day they were invented.

As he putted the machine on the TV as he'd seen Marty do it on the sixth, and had tried himself on the eighth, he sat down and putted the thing on. There were a few strange sounds, and then it worked. Good. Now all he had to do was, to do just sit down, take it easy, and watch his older self.

"Good evening, I'm Dr Emmett Brown" Doc heard his future self start babbling. "I'm standing on the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26th 1985, 1.18am and this is temporal experiment number one. C'mon, Einie." The Older Doc escorted the dog into the time machine.

It was not really easy to get the dog it's seatbelt on, Doc '55 realised, fighting a battle against the sleep. "Hey, hey boy, get in there, that a boy, in you go, sit down, put your seatbelt on, that's it!" his older self called loudly. The inventor had to grin at that – he couldn't even keep his dog all right in the future. Well, he could in this time. He sure could – Copernicus always listened to him when he'd order something. But, maybe this time this "Einie" felt something was wrong, something was strange, and so decided to do not listen to whatever his boss had to tell.

Doc figured he might as well close his eyes, so he'd listen better. He did indeed hear Marty's reaction: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, OK." Further, the inventor did however not hear anything anymore.

Dr. Brown was gone off in a deep sleep.

"Dr. Brown! Dr. Brown!"

Sleep fully, the 35-year-old stared up at the teenagers who'd waken him. "What?" he asked, groggy. He didn't recognise the teens at first. Who were these guys, and where was he? Why had he fallen asleep?

"Dr. Brown?" The voice repeated. Doc looked up and finally realised who these teenagers were standing in front of him – George McFly and Lorraine Baines. Marty's parents. What were they doing in his mansion? And, what were they doing here at this specific time… whatever time it was?

"Good morning, Dr. Brown" Lorraine greeted him joyfully, smiling like the sun on a bright day. "How are you today? We heard about Calvin's horrible fate and figured we'd might as well come by, to check how bad he's being, but we'll have to leave soon or else we'd be too late for breakfast."

That was one word Doc recognised. "Breakfast?" he repeated. "Breakfast?" He glanced over to the clock and realised at once. It said 7.35 AM. He'd fallen asleep. Fallen asleep, while Marty still had not waken up. Four full hours he'd been gone, four full hours Marty could've woken up without anyone to care for him. Marty…

"How's Marty… I mean Calvin doing?" the scientist asked, suddenly wondering how the teens had gotten in. "And more to the point, how did you get in my house? I was asleep, so I haven't let you in."

"Well, the door was still open" Lorraine said. "We figured we'd might as well go in, 'cause of we really wanted to see Cal." Doc now realised – after the late night he hadn't closed the door when he returned from looking up all the pieces of the DeLorean, having been to much tired to think about it. He could've been robbed.

"And Calvin's okay" George added, stopping Doc with it to force his brains to figure out how he could've been so careless. "We just checked up on him. I'm glad he's okay." The once so nervous teenager paused before adding: "Tell Calvin, when he wakes up, I'm really glad he brought me confidence. Yesterday night after the dance, I've let Lorraine red a couple of my stories and she thought they were really good."

"Stories" repeated Doc, still a bit fuzzy. "Stories." Marty had told him about them, he remembered now. The teen had obviously never known about his father being a writer in his teen years, and George clearly never had done anything with it – in his late forties he was still bullied around by Biff Tannen. Would he be more confident now? Doc really hoped so for Marty. It would be nice to return to a better home when he got back to the future… if he ever would.

"Yup, stories" nodded Lorraine. "They're wonderful! I've never red something like that before. I think George really has to publish them." That created a large blush on the young author's face. Yup, the shy George was still around. "Lorraine" he answered nervously. "I think you're thinking too high of me…"

"Absolutely not!" Marty's mother-to-be interrupted. "You're really good, George, and I think it'd be stupid if you never publish your stories. You say you're afraid other people won't like them, but I do, don't I? I'm sure other people will do as well. You got no, you can get yes."

"Maybe you're right" George nodded. "Maybe I really should publish my stories. But I think that before I will, I really should have a long thought about it, and show more people them. If they all like them, I think I should be publishing my stories."

"Oh George, really?" Lorraine said, happy. "I knew you could do it! I just knew it!" With that, she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, causing the nervous blush of the teen that was just gone to re-appear again. "Lorraine" he said, smiling, but gave no intention to stop the hug.

Doc grinned, seeing the couple hug in front of him. He was quite sure now that Marty was going to be born; he didn't know, yet, how the teen got them together, but at least it was succeed. Now he and Marty should in the next years avoid to run into them too much and everything would just be going fine. Of course, there would be the fact Marty would want to see his little tiny younger self when he would be born in the late sixties, but he'd manage to hold him off that plan.

He and Marty…

The scientist was already used to the fact that Marty would be staying with them for a couple of years, maybe until 1985, he noticed in himself. It was like the fact about that was going to be normal, but it was not. Having a teenage kid in his house for who knew how long was going to be really hard. Especially a teenage kid which wants to be home more than you ever can imagine and who really wants you to build another time machine to send him out of this place… while you can't. You have to finish the first time machine or else he would not even be back here in the first place. While that was the fact the teenager regretted, so he might as well try to get the time machine to never finish, but that would cause him to do never do that so he couldn't do it but at the same time he really wanted to… It wouldn't be strange if Marty got crazy of it.

How would that be, Doc thought. How would it be, to stay in another time period than yours, to know things in little details that is not going to happen for many, many years – to only be able to get out when you're really careful, 'cause of you could screw history up by every little move you do, like a kid going to walk when it's winter can fall from the ice every little moment… how would that be to live through that for a big part of your life?

"Dr. Brown?" Doc looked up again, realising he'd dozen off in his thoughts. "What's the matter? You're so quiet." Doc looked at Lorraine, who had, of course, asked the question. "I was just thinking" he replied, and that was in fact the truth. "Thinking about the bad effects this accident will have on, uh, Calvin." He felt really uneasy about calling Marty "Calvin Klein", his alias he'd been forced to use when his mom discovered the name on his pants last week. Marty had told him about the fact Calvin Klein was a fashion designer in the future, and Doc had been stunned to find out the people in the future actually wore brand-named underwear. But, still – times change.

"Yeah, you're right" Lorraine nodded. "He'll be out for a while. But afterwards, when he wakes up, and is fully restored, he'll be fine, won't he? I guess he'd be leaving Hill Valley before the end of the year. After all, it's not like he lives up here – so he can easily return to where he came from."

This little thing hadn't occurred yet to Doc – how was he going to cover Marty's staying in his mansion now. Marty had told everyone he would go out of town that night – and everybody assumed that Marty would go after all when he was recovered enough from the accident. Doc, however, knew that couldn't be possible – the only thing that could bring Marty home was crashed and didn't seem to ever be able to do it's work again.

Marty leaving the town was also not an option – in other cities he could do even more damage with Doc not being around to warn him. Every little thing he did, every newspaper he bought, every cake he baked… it could be drastically. If he decided to bake a cake he could interrupt a couple from meeting 'cause of the woman was going to leave the city and the male was going to bake a cake for her so they'd fall in love and because of Marty there was no ingredients so their kid couldn't be born to grow up to have some influence on the world…

It was all terrible, a terrible foresight, and he would cause it. But first of all, he had to reply to Lorraine's comment. "I guess he will" the scientist said. "I don't know for sure, yet, because of Mar-Calvin yesterday told me he really, uh, likes Hill Valley. I'll have a talk with him about it when he wakes up. If he wants to stay, he's free to be at my mansion." Doc already know it would not be a choice for Marty, it would be a must – as he already figured, leaving the mansion could have drastic repercussions on Hill Valley's history… future history. "I think you guys better leave now, you'll be late for breakfast" he advised the teens.

"We will" replied George but Lorraine got a closer look at the scientist's face. "You're tired" she concluded after a few seconds. "You are really tired. I bet you haven't had too much sleep, concerning Calvin and anything that happened, tonight. You really should have a nice long rest, Dr. Brown. You'll need it."

That was clear to be seen and Doc knew he couldn't shook his head to it. "That's right" he replied. "I'm tired. I've been awake since 6.30am yesterday, except a few hours of sleep before you woke me." He hoped they'd go now, he had told the story, they had nothing to search here anymore. But he was proven wrong.

"Then we'll wake instead of you, after we get breakfast" Lorraine decided. "And please don't say no, Dr. Brown. You really need more rest. If you're half-asleep when you wake, you don't really wake after all, do you?" She checked her watch. "It's 7.48 now, we'll be back here at 9.15am. See you then, Dr. Brown." She grabbed her mantle and she and George went out of the house.

Inside, Doc had to chuckle at Marty's future mother. She was really much driving her will through. He wouldn't exactly _like_ to be in younger Marty's place when he would, in the seventies, have to deal with her as a mom.

That made him think about his friend again. How would he be doing now? Doc hoped the best for his condition. The teenager would have a major headache when he would wake up, the doctor had said, and would probably have that a couple of weeks. And there was also the fact Marty would have to get used to the fact he'd probably never return home – in a time machine. He could through the natural course of time, but the teen would be… hell, 47 by 1985! Even the best aging-stopping crèmes couldn't help that, he figured.

At least, not in the present.

Doc shook his head. No. There was no way that, in the future, thirty full years of age would be hidden. Even not by 2055… or by 2155. Thirty years was just too long to cover with crèmes and stuff. Even when they'd have a million dollars they probably would not be able to do it, here neither 1985 neither 2085.

That reminded him of the fact that his dreams to see the future, what his future self had been dreaming of when he was on his way to go off to 2010 in the time machine, would probably not become reality. The time machine was destroyed, total-loss, and building a second time machine was really hard. He wouldn't have time for it, having to finish the first one _before _October 26, 1985… and he wasn't looking forward to another thirty years of working. He probably would be dead by the time they could go to the future in 2015.

That's not exactly true, he realised then. He would've an assistant the second time around, and he would know everything about how to build a time machine. The work might take a few years, not more. Maybe not even more than a couple of months. Anyway, the date he would be able to speed off to the future would be _before_ the last decade of the century. He was sure of it.

The scientist glanced up to the clock in the room. It was just striking 8. Great – it had been ten hours now. Ten hours since Marty got crashed. Doc hoped the teen would recover soon. Having a 17-year-old in his house was going to be hard anyway, but if that 17-year-old was wounded most of the time…

Pressing down a sigh, the inventor stood up. He would prepare some breakfast for himself, and than wait until Strickland came at 9. He was sure about that part – the officer never putted a business appointment down, even when the other one wasn't too happy with his visit. He was a really hard worker, but he called everyone who didn't work a slacker – causing him to do not exactly have a lot of friends in the city.

After that – or while the officer was still around – Lorraine and George would come, and he'd finally have a few hours sleeping. He was in fact really looking forward to it – the accident had sucked up his energy. He'd love a nice rest. But at first, business would have to be handled.

After a forty minutes, Doc figured he'd everything prepared as it should be. The wreck of the time machine was in the garage, having hidden it's future or time travel concerning parts safely upstairs. And there was no way that officer Strickland it could recognise as a vehicle from the future – a vehicle he'd never seen before, and which was from Dr. Emmett Brown, the guy who he thought of as a nutcase. Doc smiled, realising that for once, his bad reputation in town was positive. They would just scribe it off as some other crazy stunt of "Crazy Doc Brown".

Smiling, Doc took a seat in one of his chairs. He figured it wouldn't be all to bad to have a little rest before Officer Strickland came. He could read his favourite Jules Verne book, 20.000 leagues under the Sea. He sort of red it every year a couple of times – he almost knew the text out of his head. Still, he enjoyed reading it. Captain Nemo's adventures were really fabulous, living in a world filled with water and futuristic technology which was, some of it, even now not yet reality…

The scientist didn't realise that his head began to move down a little. His eyes became heavy, and before he knew it, he fell asleep, resting his head on his left shoulder. He only got woken up when, twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

"Great Scott!" the inventor exclaimed. And then: "I must've fallen asleep!" He went out of his chair and raced to the door to open it, on his way up there glancing his eye on one of his various clocks – 9.01am. Strickland really did come on time when he was invited (or, in this case, had invited himself).

The officer was quite grumpy, but that didn't surprise the scientist too much. He always was. The eyes of the brother of the vice-principal swerved around the room. After a few seconds looking around – and not finding anything – he finally asked: "Where's your vehicle?"

"It's in the garage" replied Doc. This was actually the truth – he didn't think it would be really smart to lie against the officer when the guy would look the time machine up anyway, and if he'd search all over the house he could by accident find any signs of the flux capacitor, or any remains of the pieces which made the time machine travel through time.

"Hmm" answered Strickland. He walked over to the garage and let Doc open it for him. After that, he went inside and looked around, to find the DeLorean pretty soon. Doc liked the glance of surprise that came on the mouth of the officer. "Is_ that_ a car?"

"Yes" replied Doc. He could've known Strickland would look really strange to it – after all, those farmers had, when Marty arrived in it, thought he was an alien. DeLorean sports cars would not be invented until around the late 1970s, early 1980s, which was still around twenty-five years away.

Not knowing if to do or to do not believe the scientist, Officer Strickland walked closer to the wreck. "How did…how did you open this thing? When it was intact, I mean? This doesn't exactly look like a door."

"You're right" Doc answered. "You open it by pushing the door up. If it was still intact, I would've demonstrated it to you, but the crash into the Courthouse did not exactly keep my invention alive." He sighed at the thought of it.

"I see" Strickland nodded. "So, how did the accident happen originally?" He knew that already from their encounter that night, but had obviously spotted too much times the word "uh" in the lines and had figured out the inventor had not exactly been telling the truth.

Figuring why the officer repeated the same question, he asked around 3AM as well, Doc again went through the entire story – Calvin had been helping him with an experiment, the tree was struck by lightning, had hit the car, Calvin had hit a trash can and crashed into the wall. He also told Strickland he was trying to get some wires connected on the clock tower concerning his weather experiment when his nephew was crashed and that he had ran down the stairs to get by him in time (he thought there was no need to tell the officer about the fact he actually _sliced_ down the wires to the ground). He didn't want to give the Strickland family any more prove that he was really crazy.

"Okay" the officer nodded. "If you figure out more things I'd need to know, tell them than to me." He left the house, leaving Doc behind.

As the scientist re-entered the main room of the house, he took a glance at the newspaper lying up there, dated Sunday, November 13, 1955. The headline read: "Clock Tower Struck By Lightning – Clock Stopped At 10.04." Doc had to smile at this – he already knew. He already experienced. Then, his eye caught a sideline: "Calvin Klein Crashes Into Wall – Visiting Teenager Damages Courthouse." The scientist went off to read it, very curious what the news about Marty might've been. Just then, however, he heard the bell ring. "Shit, not now" the scientist muttered and went off to open the door.

Lorraine and George, who were it of course, were really excited. "Good morning, Dr. Brown" greeted Lorraine with a nice, concerning sound in her voice – showing her still being around love to Marty. "How were the past two hours? And how's Calvin doing right now?"

"I…I guess Calvin's okay" replied Doc, uneasy with the sudden outburst. "I haven't checked in the past three quarter, however, because I had a visitor – Officer Strickland came to check up the wreckage of the, uh, car Calvin was driving in when it happened."

"Oh, I see" Lorraine nodded. "How reacted he, Dr. Brown? Knowing his twin, he might not have been all to fond of you. Vice-principal Strickland always accuses you from being a slacker and a nutcase, and he even slapped Calvin last Friday because of he came one minute too late… but the real reason is he hates him 'cause he's your nephew, I think."

"I think that's true, as well" George nodded. "Strickland must be really hating you, doing something like that to people who're related to you. Speaking of that… why comes it we never heard of Calvin before? My father used to come by your house in the late forties for stuff he needed, and talked with you – but I never heard about any nephew of yours named Calvin."

"That, uh, could as well be right" Doc answered the teenager who one day was supposed to be Marty's father nervously. "I think it is, uh, because of my sister – Calvin's mother – and her husband never really got along, and they divorced in 1940. They both died shortly afterwards and Calvin's paternal grandmother took care of him. It was such a tragedy I never talked about it to anyone."

"Aww, what a shame" sighed Lorraine. "So, who is bringing up Calvin right now, then? Is his grandmother still alive? I imagine she'd have it hard, then. Not as hard as Biff's grandmother, who has to deal with the biggest bully of the town in her house, but still it's not easy for someone in her… how old is she? Late seventies? To bring up a child."

"No, you've got a point" Doc nodded. "Calvin's grandmother is, uh, sixty-nine… she was born in 1886. But she's still really up-to-date, and I guess she'll be around another ten years. Though, I think Calvin rather stays alone. Or else, as my assistant. He's made some references to that in the past week he's spent up here."

"Yup, that might be a nice solution for him" Lorraine nodded, thoughtfully. "I guess he'll be able to have a nice live in Hill Valley… I guess there are enough houses around to buy. He could even go living in that new estate, Lyon Estates, when it's finished next October." She sighed, then added: "I'd like to live there someday, as well. It really looks like a nice estate to live."

Doc had to smile at this comment, as he knew Lorraine and George (with Marty and the rest of their children) actually would be living in Lyon Estates in the year 1985. He wondered when they'd buy it, and when they'd marry. He should ask Marty about it…when he woke up today. If he would wake up today, that was a point.

"I totally agree with you" the inventor heard George say. "Lyon Estates is one really nice place. I think I should feel there like home, however it's two miles away from the centre of the city. But maybe, in a decade or three, it will be just a normal part of the city."

"Oh, George, don't think so much about the future" Lorraine teased. "Three decades away, how do you only figure out the idea? Thirty years… Okay, I wonder what the future might bring for us… I mean me, sometimes… but thirty years is a really long time. Imagine how much happened in the past thirty years, so how would it in any way be possible to imagine what will happen in the next thirty years? Face it Georgie, the only way to foresee that is with a time machine… and they don't exist."

"Yet" whispered Doc, smiling, careful the teens in front of him couldn't hear it. He knew time machines would exist someday, he'd even seen one in real life – he still had the remains of it back in his garage. The thing didn't look like it would ever work again, but it was, and with it the remains of the time circuits, the flux capacitor and other stuff he'd towed upstairs, that time travel really existed.

"You're right, you might as well be right" George nodded on a tone like he'd do that every time to do just keep his wife-to-be 's mouth shut. "Still, I really like dreaming away about the future, and about future technology. If you really want to know, 1985 is not the most far time I've been thinking of – I even have thought about the year 2015." He let out a faint chuckle. "I think…no, I bet you consider that as really mad, don't you?"

"Yeah" nodded Lorraine. "But still, it's right to let everyone have his or her traditions. Since you want to be a science-fiction author someday, it's right to think about the future, and what it will bring. I mean, you might want to write a story about a world that's, for an example, fifty years ahead on us… and than, you'll need future predictions to write your story. As long as you don't predict when I'm around, it's okay."

"I'll keep that in mind" George chuckled. Then, turning to Doc, he added: "I'm sorry we're talking so much. I guess you really want to go to sleep, don't you? Go ahead, don't worry us. We'll sure be fine Dr. Brown."

"Okay" Doc nodded, and stood up. "I just want your promise you'll wake me at lunch time… and I just want to check up on, uh, Calvin one last time." After George and Lorraine nodded, he went off to the room he'd put Marty in.

The teenager was lying on the same way he'd done all the time – not right, breathing slowly, but still out cold, like he'd been for the past eleven and a half hours now. The inventor suddenly realised that only half a day had passed since he'd seen the DeLorean swerve, hit a couple of things, and finally crash into the Courthouse. For what he _felt_, it could also have been half a week.

Sighing, the scientist checked up Marty's head. It was hot, but the wound was clearly healing. Doc hoped this would mean Marty would be okay in less than a week. He really didn't wanted to have his future friend to be hurt for a real long time – it would also be bad for his plans with constructing the flux capacitor, if he'd have to worry about his friend's sake every time.

Smiling, Doc left the room. _"Goodbye, Marty McFly"_ he thought. _"I'm going off now. I hope you'll wake up soon, so we can talk about everything." _He paused a second, before adding, this time talking: "See you in the future." With that, he went off.


	3. Chapter 3

Here we are - another chapter. I hope you like the story so far. Marty will wake up at the start of Chapter Four. I've also edited Chapter Two.

**Ch****a****pter Three**

_Sunday, November 13, 1955_

_02:30 PM_

_Hill Valley, California_

Dr. Emmett Brown woke up with a jolt. As he tried to relax, he figured out he didn't exactly remember where he was, or what time it was. He glanced at the clock next to his bed. 2:30. Thirty minutes past two… in the night, he figured. He might as well go back to sleep, then. He moved his head and went to rest again.

Only then was when he realised.

The inventor sat up almost immediately. _"Great Scott!"_ he thought. _"It's 2.30! 2.30 PM! Means, I'm two hours thirty minutes late!"_ The scientist got off the bed and went over to change.

How could this have happened. George and Lorraine, who had talked him into letting them watch Marty for a while (well, actually, that could be shortened to only Lorraine) were supposed to wake him up at noon. Had they forgotten him? Simply went at home? Fallen asleep? There were so many possibilities.

"_I'm sure there's a good reason for this"_ Doc told himself._ "They could've been distracted by something…Marty could've woken up…" _His heart actually began to beat faster by this explanation. What if it was true? What if Marty had indeed woken up, and seen nothing to went to but his – teenage – parents?

Doc tried to imagine the situation. Dizzy, still half-asleep Marty, Lorraine and George in front of him, pleasant he finally woke up, trying to comfort him as best as possible… what if Marty had mistaken them for his 1985 parents? Thirty years age difference was hard to cover, but would that be the same thing for an ill, groggy, half-asleep teenager?

Another bad thought entered his mind. What if Marty, thinking it was all a dream, had blurted out the truth? What if he'd told George and Lorraine he was their very own future son?

Finally ready changing, almost stumbling over his pants, Doc departed the room and raced to the main room in the house, curious what to find. What of all these things would've happened?

As he opened the door, he was surprised for a moment. What he saw was no Marty blurting out all time travel secrets he knew, or a sleeping couple of teenagers. What he saw was George and Lorraine, alone, sitting on the bench, watching TV. Lorraine looked up by his approval. "Well, good afternoon, Dr. Brown" she said surprised. "I wasn't surprised to see you up this early."

"_Early?"_ Anger went through Doc's mind. "Early?" he bursted out. "EARLY!" He took a deep piece of breath. "You were supposed to wake me at 12 PM, young lady. That was an appointment. And as far as I'm concerned…" his eyes went to the clock, "it's now 2.33 PM. Means it's two hours and thirty-three minutes ago."

Lorraine glanced over at the clock. "You're right, Dr. Brown" she nodded. "You're quite right. It is indeed 2:30 PM. Your eyes are okay." Doc nearly exploded from the sarcastic tone in the 17-year-old voice.

"I have to ask you a question" he said calm, calmer than he actually was, having his eyes shooting with fire. "Only one. _Why on earth did none of you make me up at 12_?"

George looked up nervous, was about to mutter an apology but Lorraine reacted before he could even try. "'Cause of you were tired" she simply replied. "I didn't want to wake ya up with the chance you'd fall asleep again the next night. In fact, I didn't even suspect you to be up here before 4 PM, at the least."

Doc considered the thought. Would he? Part of him wanted to learn the brutal kid a lesson, Marty's mother-to-be or not, but another part had to admit she was actually right – if Lorraine or George would've woken him up at 12, like he'd asked, he was quite sure he would barely survive being awake the next night. Finally, he jumped in a conclusion. "You're right" he nodded, then remembering a thing ten times as important. "By the way, how's Marty?"

"Marty?" repeated Lorraine. "Who's – oh! You must mean Calvin. I know Calvin used to call himself Marty – he told me that's his second name – but I'm more used to the name of Calvin. I think "Calvin Klein" sounds better than "Martin Klein", don't you think?" She looked at George. "Don't you?"

"Yeah, I do" her boyfriend reacted. "Still, I'm more used to the name of Marty myself, however I think Calvin sounds better. Still, Marty is a pretty nice name as well." He smiled at his girlfriend.

"We had a nice chat about that after Calvin left the dance yesterday" Lorraine explained. "It turns out to be that George actually had a great-granduncle named Martin McFly. He looked a lot like Calvin – in fact, George's Grandpa, William, does as well." She smiled to George. "It's almost like Calvin Klein is actually a member of George's family. However, he says there were no Klein's related to him in the past."

"Interesting" nodded Doc. In fact, he didn't think it was interesting – the only thing he cared for, was Marty's health. It was 2:35, now – it had been sixteen hours and thirty-one minutes and still was the teenager out-cold. How long would he be? "But could you tell me now how Calvin's doing? He hasn't woken up yet, has he?" Doc had to admit he wouldn't have liked the fact of Marty woken up in presence of his future parents – and that was not only 'cause it could do so much damage to history…future history.

"Oh no, he hasn't" nodded Lorraine. "Hasn't given any sign of stirring in the past…what's it, five hours? Yeah, five hours." Turning back to Doc, she added: "George and I have watched a movie on TV, then we've ate something, then we've played a game. Since 2 PM we've been watching TV again." She smiled. "Oh yeah – about the food, don't worry. We've brought our own meal, and that's what we ate. So it's not like there's something missing in your house or something like that."

"Good" Doc nodded. "Well, I suppose you should be able to go, now. I'm be able to take care of Calvin, so I guess…I want to say…"

"That we're not needed around here anymore" Lorraine interrupted. When Doc looked up to her, she added: "It's okay – I guess you want some privacy, having your nephew in such a bad state. It wouldn't do good if we'd be here all day and night. Know what, we'll be back here tomorrow at 7 – and then we'll be able to wake again for you – at least, for an hour, then. I hope that Calvin's woken up by then, though. He's such a cute guy." She went off, followed by George.

"Good bye, Dr. Brown" the nervous teenager said, passing the inventor. "Like Lorraine said, we'll be back up here at 7am tomorrow morning, and we'll take care of Calvin then. Success with the afternoon's watching. See you."

"Thanks" Doc faintly managed to mutter. "Thanks, George." The teen smiled and departed the room as well. A couple of moments later Doc heard the front door close – to be opened a few moments later, and to be closed again. Both of the teens had gone.

He was back alone, again.

Doc walked once again over to the room where the unconscious time traveller lied. He'd moved him up here that morning, before Strickland came, and it was completely dark up there. The scientist suddenly realised that, if Marty wake up, he'd think it was still night 'cause of the darkness, and go off to sleep before he had given himself enough time to realise that he wasn't just in his own bedroom, but in Doc's mansion a thirty years in the past.

Concerned, the inventor opened the window and moved away the curtains. Well, it was light in the room now – Marty might as well wake up soon. He took a seat next to the unconscious, checked the clock – 2:45 PM – and started waiting.

Waiting a minute. No response, the teen was still out.

Waiting five minutes. Not even the slightest move to stir.

Waiting a quarter. Still no woken up Marty.

Waiting half an hour. Nothing happened.

Waiting an hour…

Startled, Doc looked at the clock, which said 3:48 PM. He'd been up here for more than an hour now, and yet nothing had happened with Marty. His theory had been proven wrong – and taken an hour of his time, his time he could've spent on making signs for the flux capacitor. Still, that wouldn't have worked. If he was one time busy working, he'd not stop any time soon, and get totally into it. Which would cause him to be too distracted to help as Marty woke up.

Marty would need a hand in getting used to the fact he had an accident and was stuck in the fifties, Doc realised. He couldn't just say, "Oh hi Marty, I had to tell you something – you're stuck here okay, I'm off working again." The idea sounded nuts, but he couldn't avoid to admit he'd really thought so for a minute.

Sighing, Doc got up and went to cook a cup of coffee. It would be hard to be awake for the night – he was sure he was gonna get so tired he'd like to sleep any moment he could, while he couldn't – he had to take care of Marty. If he only had someone to be in his place that night…

He could ask George and Lorraine again, of course. They were nice people – they sure were going to say "yes" when he'd ask them to take his place again to wake with Marty. Hell, he might have had nine hours sleep today, but he was late up the last night and around 12, the need for sleep would start to grow. If only…

The inventor shook his head. No. He couldn't ask the teens again – having had them once was already getting bad for the fate of the space-time continuum. Marty's parents could be _supposed_ to do something else, and thanks to him, they didn't do this, and maybe that was the thing what would cause them to grow closer and closer to each other, and finally marry…

Sighing, Doc took another drink of his cup of coffee. He figured Marty wouldn't wake up soon, cause he had been out for almost seventeen hours now and still didn't show any more signs of waking up than in the first hour. The inventor remembered the doctor's advice, about calling him when Marty wouldn't be up Monday morning. The scientist was getting really concerned about the teen, so he figured he'd call right at 6AM, at the exactly moment the morning began and the night ended.

Marty was still breathing slowly, looking as out as he'd been the past seventeen hours. _Hell, I wonder if that kid will eventually wake up?_ Doc thought for a second. Then, he screwed that part. Of course not. Marty would wake up, and it was really normal for him to be out for a couple of hours…maybe the rest of the day.

Trying to get some distraction, he figured he might as well think some more about the new time machine. The new time machine that would have to send Marty home. He figured he'd might as well think about the old one, which still had to be build. For a second, he thought the big thought again, the thought what had been worrying him all day: I wish I didn't invent any time machine.

Oh yes, it was a good thing, Doc immediately admitted. The idea was good behind it – getting a clear perception of humanity, where we've been, where we're going. The pitfalls and the possibilities. The perils and the promise. Perhaps even an answer to that universal question, why?

But it just contained so many risks with it. And it already had brought them such a lot of trouble. And it could even worse – what would happen when the time machine might possibly fall in the wrong hands?

Biff Tannen could get rid on it. And if he would, he'd do anything to disrupt world's history. He might go into the future first, to check out what's gonna be. Then, he'd head back in time to change history, maybe even give relatives information he brought along from the present or future. He could give Buford Tannen, the famous Tannen gunman in the West, future info.

The inventor, who started to doze off a bit, got it in front of him, as in a dream. It was 1885 – September 2, to be exact – and Buford Tannen was riding over the fields, and then, three loud sonic booms were heard as the time machine came up, and Biff stepped out of it. Buford was startled, of course, but soon got interested when Biff told him he was from the future.

Biff would take him for a ride back to 1955, and by returning to the 1880s, Buford would have on him all information where he could bet on until the late 20th Century, so he'd get rich.

The thirty-five-year-old scientist began to think of a possible Hell Valley, as he'd like to call every place in which a Tannen, or someone else with bad motives, was rich. The city would be a dump place, known as hell, he'd be committed before he even got the chance to become a scientist, and Buford's family lived in the town's square. Maybe was Buford still alive – they could afford building future technology to live longer.

A long strike, melding the fact that it was 4:30, stopped Doc from falling asleep completely. He got up, and went off to get himself some more coffee – his cup was empty. While doing so, he began to think. It was late, now – the sun began to move downwards, as it was late afternoon. Well, he felt like it was midnight.

Yes, he had taken sleep in the past time – what was it, eighteen hours? – after Marty had the accident. A nine hours, if he remembered it correctly. Yes, that was it. Nine hours. There was the four hours he'd slept after the journey he'd made in the middle of the night to get the time machine up here – and the next five hours he'd made when Lorraine and George were around. The scientist grimaced by the memory of waking up at 2:30 PM, while he was supposed to wake up at high noon.

Still, there was the fact that he was sleepy. And he knew why – he was a scientist after all. It was because of the stress, all the stress that came with Marty's crash, the journey to get the machine, Lorraine and George's visits, and all the worries about the fate of the good old space time continuum.

But still, that didn't explain everything. He'd worked through lots worse stuff much times before. There was no reason that he'd just would be tired now while he wasn't tired then. Well, at least there was no scientific reason to be found in his entire mind, and that was what made him go nuts.

As Doc drank his coffee, he decided he might as well take a short walk. Marty wouldn't wake up soon, that was for sure – he was still resting in a deep sleep. The inventor wondered if he would even wake up at all… (oh, can't think that!) Something else to think then. The time machine? Nope. Time travel was getting too distressing today. George and Lorraine? Nope, that concerned time travel as they were Marty's future parents. Yeah, a walk would sure do a lot of good.

Getting up, Doc took his mantle and went out. It was a bright Sunday, and the sun rose high in the air, giving the scientist a feeling of pleasure. Yes – it was summer. It was a nice, calm summer and he was enjoying it completely. The sun shone, the birds chirped, the people were happy. And Doc would be happy too, hadn't he got all of the concern about Marty on his mind.

Oh yes, he was trying to get it off him. He was trying hopeless to think about other things, like the happy birds and things which were around. Everyone looked bright and looked like they were enjoying themselves, so why couldn't he?

He knew the answer to his own question. When a problem got on his mind, he never could get it off it completely until it was repaired. Normally, he hadn't had any problems with that. It was just something he had, and something what wasn't too funny… but it wasn't bad. He never got a situation that he really wanted to think about something else than scientific theories.

However, today was different. Today centred completely about Future Boy's health, and about the health of the time machine, and the space-time continuum. Today wasn't a day to rest and just go out to see how bright everything was… today was a day that needed different attention.

"_Really?"_ Doc thought by himself. _"Do you really think that, just because your friend has not woken up for the past day, that you'll have to wake with him any time? Hell, you got out of the living room many times!" _

"_That was because of necessary things"_ Doc reminded himself. _"You had to store the time machine parts – and you took Marty with you on your ride, so nothing has happened to him. You had to make a few cups of coffee, or else you would have no drinks at all, you had to make a visit to the garage with Strickland or else he'd get suspicious, and when you slept Lorraine and George woke over Marty. You're doing your duty to Marty if you, right now, turn around and go back home." _

In this fresh air, turning around didn't exactly seem to be the right thing to do to the thirty-five-year-old. This was one of the last bright days of the year – he wanted to enjoy the late afternoon, and have the pleasure of the sunshine. This was a great day to be out and he wanted to take all out of it that the day had in it.

_No, you can't, you have to turn around. _

_You don't have to – enjoy the sun, be happy 'cause it's a happy day. _

_No, you have to wake with Marty. If he wakes up, he'll be really disorientated. Will you ever forgive yourself it if he goes out of bed, trips over something, hits his head and dies? Will you ever be able to do that? _

"_No, I won't" _the other voice in Doc's head replied. _"However, how little is that chance? How little is the chance he trips over something, and how little is the chance he'll hit his head then if he _does_ trip? How little is the chance he even wakes up before you're back at all? The doctor said it'd be usual if Marty sleeps through the day. And it's no more than 5 PM, if no less! The chance's big Marty doesn't wake up for another seven hours… which will completely cover the no-more-than-one-hour-taking trip _you're _planning."_

_But could I possibly…_

"Hey, Dr. Brown!" The voice, coming from nearby, made Doc, who had been sinking back in deep thoughts, jerk his head up and look in the direction the voice came from. "Busy thinking again, huh? How's it going?"

Doc was surprised to recognise the person where the voice came from. "Arthur McFly" he said with a smile, recognising George McFly's father. "It's good to see you. How have you been doing in the last time?"

Marty's Grandfather-to-be grinned. "Everything's just okay" he answered. "I've a happy family, expect for our oldest – that's George. He often can be so sad, as if he's got to do something for anyone. I've asked him what's the matter, and he just pushes it off. I think it's got something to do with Biff Tannen, that bully. I've been bullied by his father for twenty-five years, until he departed Hill Valley in 1947, and I don't want my son to carry in that lineage."

"No, I understand" Doc said, remembering how Marty said that in 1985 – not only twenty-five, but more than _thirty-five _years after it started, George was still bullied to write Biff's report. He hoped that punching the guy out at the dance did some good for the future McFly's. His heart really went out to poor George, and he hoped that he wouldn't be bullied in the 1980s anymore. "The Tannen's really seem to have bad genes. I wonder how Biff Tannen's children will be like… or his grandchildren."

"Well, I guess they're as bad as their ancestors" replied Arthur. "But still, you can only guess. It could've been a coincidence that four Tannen's – they've been around here since outlaw Buford in the 1880s – are all real bad. The future Tannen's can also try to be nicer. Always do nice to everyone, that's what I always say."

Doc grinned at the thing that Arthur and his future grandson had in common – trying to be nice to everyone had obviously found it's way down through the McFly generations. He wondered if Dave and Linda, or their father, also had this. As Marty hadn't told him this, probably not.

"Say, while we're talking anyway – I heard of George you had a patient in your house" Arthur continued. "His friend, guy named Calvin Klein. George told me he's your nephew, and he just came into town on the fifth. How's he doing?"

"Well, he's fine right now, however he still hasn't woken up" Doc said. "But he was hurt pretty bad in the accident." And the inventor began to tell the fake story again that he'd told anyone in Hill Valley who needed to know, and anyone who'd asked him, about how Calvin was just driving to the train station while he was hit. And about the weather experiment he'd been doing at Courthouse Square. A police officer had confirmed that this was true – he'd passed by around 8 PM, and seen him busy with the experiment. He'd even told him it was one – so it was really clear that the inventor had been telling the truth.

"Okay" Arthur replied. "You see, George was really worried about him – and so he managed to get me so far I'd ask it to you. He'll be glad to know his friend isn't getting worse now." Sighing, he added: "George is really caring for your nephew, you know. He even got there with his newfound girlfriend – girl named Lorraine Baines – up there waking for you during more than five hours! I was really proud on him, but I said clearly "no" when he asked me if he and Lorraine could go back to yours at 4. He really has to think more about other things – like church, and school. He doesn't exactly realise yet that you have to comb important things in life, and don't concentrate yourself on one thing all the time. That way, other things will get drastically wrong, causing you to lose the game of your life." He looked up to Doc, before adding: "Don't you think?"

"Yeah, you might as well be right" Doc replied. "You have to take things like school seriously, if you want to be somebody one day in the close future." Sighing, he quickly added: "Of course, I don't think your son doesn't take school seriously. He's just being worried about his friend – and I think that's really good of him. I don't know many people who care so much about another person."

"Yeah, you have a point" Arthur said, sighing. "The thing is, I'm not used to my son doing so – he's always on his own – and now he does, I'm having a strange feeling about it, so I'd forbid him quickly, however I know it's good what he's doing." Sighing again, he added: "Well, I guess I shouldn't take your time too much, and better get going. It's a few minutes after five – I better get going. The wife might get mad on me when I'm late for dinner." He chuckled, and went off.

Doc looked up, and began to walk again. He really liked the sunshine that was around on a day like this, and praised himself lucky he'd been born in Hill Valley, and not in a climate where it was every day a ten degrees negative. He'd have a completely different life then, being not a scientist but some hunter or so. For once again he concluded: life was the best as it was now.

"Copernicus! Copy! I'm home! The boss is home!"

The two-year-old sheepdog ran up to his boss, who embraced him gently. "Hi Copy! How have you been behaving yourself? You haven't been bad, have ya?" Chuckling, the inventor pulled up his dog. "And how about our guest? Has he woken up, yet?" Sighing, the scientist added: "I guess he hasn't. Must've been real hard knocked out yesterday – I hope he'll recover soon." Breathing tired, he began to head over to the room he'd left Marty in.

The teenager was still in the same strange position as he'd been the last day – head on the right, feet on the left. Doc wondered how he could possible have slumped in this condition, but the teen seemed to be normal to it, so he decided to keep it this way.

Glancing at the clock, the inventor saw that it was 6:15 PM. He could've guessed – his so-called "trip" through the neighbourhoods took much longer than expected because of he had borrowed some stuff from people he knew – like puzzle books, and other stuff to keep him _awake_ the rest of that hard waking night.

"Good evening, Marty" the scientist greeted with a faint chuckle. "Still asleep, huh? You seem to do not know anything about stopping do you?" He touched the seventeen-year-old' s head. It was really hot – Doc had checked his temperature earlier on, which said a hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit. _"Well, it could be worse" _he thought. _"I can't imagine how bad it could've been if it was a hundred and _ten_ degrees. That would not be easy to survive! You should just be not too much worried – Marty will be fine." _

Doc gave himself a faint smile and went off to prepare himself a small meal. He'd been cooking for himself for the past, what was it, fourteen years… but it was suddenly not too easy anymore. Especially not when you had a guest in your house and you had to be really careful he didn't wake up without you being around.

Sighing, Doc ate his meal and went afterwards off to watch a movie on TV. Sunday night was usually a night with many cowboy shows and stuff, and this time, Doc was again not disappointed – there were at least three of them.

Doc really began to get happy again, because he loved cowboy shows. If it hadn't been for his discovery of the fun of science, by reading Jules Verne at 11 in 1931, he'd become a cowboy. But, of course, that wasn't exactly possible anymore in the year 1955, more than fifty years after the "Old West" ended. Doc hoped that, if he'd rebuild the time machine one day, he'd also be able to get back to the Old West one time. That really did sound like fun! Maybe the year 1885 or 1886 would do so. He'd have to be careful for outlaws, of course, but also with the necessary preservations, including the ones that only were about time travel like "don't talk with anyone don't interact with anyone" and stuff like that, he could have a lot of pleasure being back in the past, back in the good old 19th Century. He really did quite love all of those era's!

As Doc watched TV, the time floated by real soon. The clock chimed 8, 9, and finally 10. When it was 10:02:50 PM, Doc's alarm clock went off, and he looked on the clock. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…"

The inventor had a hard time, as the clock clicked to the fatal 10:03 PM. Exactly twenty-four hours earlier had the accident happened. Martin Seamus McFly, the 17-year-old who was heading back to his own future in the year nineteen-eighty-five, was hit by a branch of a tree, causing him to swerve around, and finally hit the Courthouse, a few metres below Doc's site of connecting the cables. The scientist shivered, thinking about those scary moments of before the lightning bolt. If only Marty hadn't been hit…

However he didn't exactly like alternate history stories, Doc found himself puzzling about a "what if" scenario. What if Marty had made it back to the future? What if he'd caught the lightning in time? The inventor was sure things would be better then. Marty would be back home, and he would be alone again… knowing he'd have to wait another really hard thirty years before ever discussing these events again…

For a moment, Doc found himself being happy that Marty _hadn't_ made it back home. But immediately he pushed that thought away. No. He couldn't be happy while Marty was not happy. While Marty was unconscious, hit, damaged… while the time machine was a wreck, while the universe would have to deal with another person present in the next thirty years, a person known in town as Calvin Marty Klein…

The inventor looked back at the TV, and saw the show had ended. Aww. Bad thing. He really loved the show, and now he'd missed a part of it by thinking about time travel… which was also very important, of course, even more important than him missing his best movies and TV shows about cowboys.

The inventor looked in his TV-guide. According to it, the next programme would be a science documentary, going about one of his favourite scientists, Albert Einstein. By watching the video Marty had brought from the future, Doc had learned his future self's dog would be called Einstein. He had concluded that his future self and he really were the same person, since he loved Einstein's theories.

As the programme started, Doc sat down relaxing and watched the TV screen interested. It was some sort of a late memorial to the scientist, who had died in April that year. Also there was much attention to the relativity theories, which Doc found really fascinating. He really hoped he'd find out such a great invention some day – well, he already had invented time travel, but couldn't show that to anyone except Marty – and be famous as well. He had to admit that sometimes, before the inventor died, he had really envied Einstein about his popularity and being well-known all over the world. But, eventually, he'd gotten over that.

Sighing, Doc listened to all the theories that were explained, and all the info the people gave about Einstein's life. He knew most of it, but it was still interesting to hear, to update the information in his head a little. He wondered how people in 1985 looked up to Einstein. He might ask Marty, when he'd wake up.

_If_ he woke up…

"_No"_ Doc thought once again. _"Marty will wake up eventually. It might take a couple of hours, but he will wake up. It's just a matter of time, that's all."_

A matter of time.

What _wasn't_ a matter of time in these past days?

"And that was our Einstein documentary" a voice on the TV said, attracting Doc attention. "We'll have now the last show of tonight, a romantic movie made just last year. It's called…" And that was where Doc grabbed the remote, and turned the television set off. It was 10:45 now – he'd have another seven hours and a quarter waking before he could call the doctor.

Tired, he grabbed his puzzle book that the McFly's had borrowed him. George had asked, once again, how Marty had been doing and he had truthfully told him there was no progress yet. The teen was still out-cold, and didn't look like he was going to wake up soon.

Sighing, Doc went through the next hour of watching television. Afterwards, he sorted some remains of the time vehicle and stashed them on a place no-one would see it – he remembered the encounter with Strickland the night before all too well.

As it was 1:15AM, Doc finally began to feel tired. He took another cup of coffee, but he already knew he couldn't fight the sleep for too long. "Where did I begin with" he muttered, glancing at the unconscious form in the spare room.

Once again, Doc went puzzling. He really liked the puzzles the McFly's gave him, as they gave him an opportunity to use his brains with a game. He made a couple of them before he finally putted them away when the clock chimed.

Hardly be able to hold his eyes open, Doc looked up. Great – two-thirty A.M. That made another three-and-a-half hours to wake. Which wasn't easy if you had two really busy days behind you. He was up, both physically and mentally. All he wanted to do, once again, was go to sleep.

Not wanting to give himself over to the powers of sleeping, Doc grabbed a science book and began reading. It was about Thomas Edison, and normally Doc would've red the book for hours, not be able to stop. Only this time, it wasn't that way. He was too tired to do so.

It had only been twenty minutes… it was around three A.M. – when Doc Brown finally gave up and went to rest, again. Copernicus looked up to his boss, curious, but finally did also go off to sleep. And in a couple of minutes, it was silent all over the house – sleep had defeated the mansion. Sleep had defeated the guy who could be awake during night hours the best of maybe entire Hill Valley – Doctor Emmett L. Brown.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future. This is said enough already, so I'll leave it with this and don't start worrying about other things what I should do if I would and stuff like that. I just don't own it, okay? Leave it to be this way. **

Author's Note: Hi, here we are again with the fourth Chapter. I think the fifth will be the last... or else the sixth. I have set myself on having the story finished this month, and considering all of my chapters in this story have 5700 words or something like that, that won't be easy if I have to write another two. I think, if that would be the case, that this story will have another 11.500 words.

Well, as you'll find out when you read this story, it'll be about Marty waking up in '55. Will be about around a few minutes before 7am 'til 9.35 or so. That's pretty short time, I think. Another record in history of my fanfiction so far - never was a story centring about only two people in the main roles be able to have 5800 words (this story is 5800, then) while it was only about a hundred and sixty minutes. That's two hours forty minutes.

Around this time, I'm a bit 'fan' of writing about the Hell Valley Universe so I hope to edit "Future Travellers" and "I Didn't Invent Any Time Machine" a bit. I thought of re-naming the last one "I Never Invented Any Time Machine" but decided against it. I prefer the present one.

What a long note, huh? Please review... and suggest for the Sequel, which will probably start at November 19 or November 26, 1955.

PS: As for people who miss the letter about the terrorists, that will come in Chapter Five! Well, anyway, enjoy the fic!

**Chapter Four**

_Monday, November 14, 1955  
06:54 AM  
Hill Valley, California_

"Dr. Brown! Dr. Brown! Wake up, Dr. Brown!"

Groggy, Dr. Emmett Lathrop Brown opened his eyes and stared in dumbfounded expression at the teenager who had – once again – woken him up, George McFly. "You again?" he asked, not really surprised about his approval but about the fact Lorraine wasn't with him. "Have I fallen asleep again?" He grinned. "I really should do something about this, shouldn't I?" He recalled how yesterday night had again been a late night, so he wasn't exactly surprised. But of course, he as a scientist should be able to know how to keep himself awake.

George, however, wasn't in the mood for those questions. "Come on, Dr. Brown!" he called, trying to pull the inventor with him. Doc looked up, confused. "I'm coming!" he called. "Just relax a bit. Gimme time to change."

"No!" George called out. "You don't understand… it's…it's…"

"I don't understand _what_?" interrupted Doc. "I'm sorry if it's a bad question to ask, but I'd like to know what the hell is going on, George McFly. You're acting like world is about to get destroyed." He could barely hold the words "Just like a time-paradox" inside. He didn't want to explain things about time and have to carry the risk of actually saying things that concerned time travel.

"All right, then!" George called. "Marty…I mean Calvin... is stirring!"

The news of a bomb coming down to Hill Valley couldn't have woken up Doc any better. "WHAT?" he called, grabbing George with both hands and shaking him up and down. "You serious? You can't be! You can't be serious! Marty can't be stirring! This can't be happening! Not right now!"

"He is" George replied, once again falling back into his normal, nervous, self that he had been _before_ November 12th 1955. "He's making moves, he's breathing louder… in fact he's doing everything that points on the fact he is on the verge of waking up."

"Since when is this going on?" Doc asked, now holding George a little less hard. However, still the teen hardly could breathe when he muttered: "Since…6:50. That's…around… five minutes ago."

"Great Scott!" Doc called out. "Five minutes? Then why didn't you wake me up sooner?" The inventor was really exhausted right now. Why did those, those kids let him sleep while Marty was about to wake up? Didn't they understand he had to be there for him, because events could go really wrong if he wasn't?

Another question came into his head just after the first one. "And, while you didn't wake me up immediately, why did you wake me up at all?"

"Lorraine asked me to do so" George said. Doc sighed – he could've known it. With Lorraine on his side, George was still shy and nervous as always.

But, when Marty was waking up in the presence of his future mother and was be able to blurt out almost everything he knew about time travel to her, what did he care?

Almost stumbling over his blanket, the inventor got up, and changed as quick as he could – while George watched in another dumb-founded expression. And finally, at 6:57, he ran off to the spare room in which Marty slept… or maybe now, woke.

As he was close to the room – while George followed him a few feet behind, he could hear a soft voice from the room, and stopped in his tracks. "Mom?" he heard the voice say, and Doc was sure it was Marty. "Mom is that you?"

"Just relax now" Lorraine reacted, as Doc and George saw her place a soft thing on Marty's head. "You've been asleep for more than a day."

"Oh" Marty breathed, still half-asleep. "I…I had a terrible nightmare… I was back in time… at the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance… it was terrible."

Lorraine frowned at the comment. "Well," she answered, "you're safe and sound now, back, in good old 1955, in the Brown's Mansion."

The answer couldn't be worse. Marty jerked up, opened his eyes and screamed: "1955!" Then, noticing Lorraine, he added: "You're my…you're my…" It was clearly he couldn't bring out the words so confused and stunned was he.

"Just relax now, Calvin, you were hurt pretty bad in the accident" Lorraine said, worried about her patient. It was clear that she'd lost the crush she had on Marty in the past few days – she didn't stroke him, or made other moves that made clear she loved him really much. Must been because of George, Doc thought. Now she loves another one, she doesn't care about Marty as a boyfriend anymore…

"Accident" muttered Marty, barely be able to breathe. "Accident…I was in an accident?" Lorraine wasn't given time to respond, however, because at that same moment Doc came in. "Okay, Lorraine, we're ready, right?" he asked. "I can handle my nephew… you can go. We'll have to have these first moments in private."

"Right" Lorraine nodded, as she left the room. "Call me when I'm back to school about Calvin. I'll leave my number on the table in the dining room." She went off, followed by George.

"Okay" Doc said, turning back to Marty. "Now we can talk."

"We can talk" replied the seventeen-year-old, staring at Doc. He slowly moved his hand to his head. "My head hurts. What happened? Mom talked about some sort of accident…where am I, Doc?"

"At my mansion" replied Doc, not understanding why Marty needed to know this – Lorraine had already told him. But his patient shook his head. "No, I don't mean the place, Doc. The time. I wanna know what time it is."

"It's six fifty-eight A.M." Doc responded. "At Monday morning. To be exact, it's Monday, November 14th – 1955. And fifty-eight AM, of course. I mean fifty-nine. You've been out for quite a long time now, Marty. In fact, you haven't woken up since you had the accident." He chuckled at the reminder. "I had a hard time waking with you."

"The accident" breathed Marty. "You…you talked about an accident. Mom talked about an accident. What happened? Why am I still in 1955? I was supposed to get home at November 12th, wasn't I?" Doc could see he had a hard time remembering the details. "Through…the lightning bolt at the tower."

"Right" replied Doc. "That was the way we were going to get you home." He tried to hide the sad feeling about it's not working behind, but Marty had already noticed. And if he hadn't, he'd notice that Doc had used 'were' instead of using a line in the present time. "It didn't work, did it?" he asked sad. "I'm stuck here."

"Relax, Marty" Doc said. "Nobody says you're stuck in the year 1955. Nobody says it." Right – that confirmed Marty's thoughts even more. "I've got to go off – I'll get some nice coffee for you, that'll help you wake up."

"Good" replied Marty, as he saw the inventor walk off. Was it true? Had he really no way to return back home, to the 1980s? Or wasn't Doc kidding – and had he really got another chance to return back to the future?

Sighing, the teen went down in deep thoughts. He was almost asleep again when Doc showed up. "Oh hi Marty" he greeted. "You almost fell asleep, didn't you?" Marty immediately reacted. "No Doc, of course not, don't be silly" he muttered. It was almost like that first time travel night, for him now a little over a week ago, when Doc showed him for the very first time the time machine…

"_Yes"_ Marty thought. _"The time machine. It worked perfectly – it was working as it should be, you could explore new eras, do experiences up that you never could've before…" _

And it has only been one week in your hands and it makes you stuck in another time period, a thirty years away from home.

Sighing, Marty grabbed his cup of coffee and managed to mutter a "Thanks Doc". As the scientist moved away, he thought about the how and why he had been ending up here. Just after finishing drinking his cup of coffee, he'd concluded he should ask Doc about the experiment with the lightning – he couldn't remember anymore than the dance. What did go wrong?

Did the time machine miss the lightning bolt? Yes, of course, that was for sure. Why would he else be here. But how? Did it just came too late to connect with the wire? No, then there wouldn't be an accident. Unless, of course, he'd driven through and hit the future site of Essex Theatre at the end of the street. That would've given quite a crash, probably – and could also have been the cause of him being out for quite a while. But it had been more than a day…

Why didn't Doc just tell him what happened? He could keep it a secret, if it was bad and nobody should know it. Hell – he was Doc's best friend, why would Doc hide secrets for him? They'd been friends for more than a half decade! They'd known each other for years!

"_You__might have known him for years"_ a little voice in Marty's head reminded him. _"But he hasn't. For him, you're some stranger from the future who just showed up at his doorstep nine days ago. He doesn't half know who you are, and you expect him to tell you everything? You've gotta be kidding, McFly!" _

And even if that hadn't been the case, Marty remembered, Doc had hidden the time machine for him as well. He'd been working on it secretly all the time they'd known each other, and Marty had never found only a little piece of it out.

For one second, he felt like he had gotten the chance to see another, unknown, secretly side of his future best friend.

Sighing, Marty grabbed his pillow and hid his face in it, deep thinking about Doc Brown and time travel and all stuff like that. And one question stayed hammering in his mind – What happened two days ago? What made you wounded at your head, what made you miss the lightning? What the hell did it?

Sighing, Marty went off to sleep. Tired from everything, and having a bad hurting headache, this was the best he could do. He didn't exactly know that – he didn't care either. All he wanted to do was getting some rest, before exploring how little his chances to return had become.

oooooooo

Doc was, unbeknownst to Marty, having trouble with time travel as well. He'd called the doctor after he'd made Marty's coffee, and guessed the guy would be here around 7:30. It was now 7.10am; he'd have another twenty minutes to go.

Since George had woken him up about a quarter earlier with the fascinating news that Marty had woken up, things had moved fast. The two of them had ran to the bedroom, and there he saw how Marty almost had told Lorraine the entire story about time travel – which was not exactly a happy foresight. Lucky enough, he'd been able to stop them and send them home, so he and Marty could spend some time together. _"And talk about things we can't let you guys know" _his mind added.

It was strange – even since only a few minutes after they had missed the lightning he'd been looking forward to this event, Marty waking up, and had prepared himself for it as good as possible – but when it finally happened, he hadn't know what to do. The best thing that came up in his mind, thinking about "what to do now", had been to send Marty's parents home, and get Marty some coffee so he could be a little less disorientated, what he clearly was now. And it had worked – Marty was asleep again, and the doctor could arrive in twenty minutes. It wasn't exactly the moment to fall asleep – but Doc was not really be able to put himself awake. In fact, he wished for a second that Marty _hadn't_ woken up, so he could have some nice rest. But he quickly putted that thought away – he couldn't think so. He had to be happy that his young friend had finally managed to put the sleep away and wake up, even while it was only for no more as ten minutes, and don't worry about little things that could come later…things like going back to bed and fall asleep. There certainly were more important businesses to attend.

Doc took another glance as the puzzle book from the McFly's. It was open and there was a puzzle filled in half in a handwriting that wasn't his - obviously, George had seen the familiar book and made a puzzle in it while waking for Marty. The inventor grinned, as he looked at the young teen's handwriting, and at the notes made for the puzzle lying next to the book. That boy sure was going to make it into the author's world. Doc felt really happy, as Marty's father was heading right towards a good future with Lorraine. He was looking forward to following their carriers and personal lives, as they'd get married between now and six, seven years – Marty had told him Dave was born in 1962 – and get their three kids. Doc wondered how much would change in their lives, now Marty had interrupted. Would Marty still be the same Marty by the time 1985'd roll around? And, more importantly, would he be still as happy as he was originally to be friends with the then sixty-five-year-old scientist that was known as the town's nutcase?

Suddenly getting the need to do something, Doc grabbed the book and went to make the puzzle. He really liked the puzzle – it was not too easy, and not too hard, perfect for a scientist. Obviously, George had been struggling a bit harder with it, as he found rewritten words all over the puzzle.

In only ten minutes, the inventor finished the little puzzle, enjoying the rest that it gave him. He hadn't had so much rest while being awake since Friday, November 4th – the day before he invented time travel, and Marty came into view. Doc envied his younger self of that sunny Friday, who didn't know yet what for a horrific things were going to happen – getting a teenage friend who loses one of the most important things he has – his future – on a Saturday evening because of a simple bolt of lightning that struck on the wrong place…

Sighing, he got up. He could worry like this for ages, but it didn't bring any progress in the situation – not for Marty's health, not for his, and not for the time machine. He made himself some more coffee, and made a croissant for him and Marty – if the teen would be able to eat bread at all when he woke up again. As he was just ready, the bell rang – the doctor had arrived.

Dr. Pentinson, the same one who had been asked to come right after the accident happened, woke Marty – who had been sleeping – up with his arrival. _"Well, of course"_ Doc thought. _"He's only been asleep for half an hour, so he hasn't slept too deep so he's easy to wake up."_

The inventor watched as Dr. Pentinson got closer. "Good morning, Calvin" he greeted. "You've had an accident, I've heard? Your uncle told me."

Marty looked up. "Yeah" he muttered, clearly confused by the word 'Calvin' until he remembered the 'Calvin Klein' story that had been caused by his underwear nine days ago. "Can't remember, though. I can't remember anything in the last ten minutes before it occurred." He sounded like someone who was far away – Doc didn't have to ask to know the teen was everything but fit awake right now. Which was logical if you had such an accident. _"Well, After the doctor's gone, I'll let him sleep until noon"_ Doc promised himself. _"That'll make him more awake." _

"Don't worry" Dr. Pentinson assured Marty. "It's normal to do not remember too much about an accident for a while after it occurs. In about a week, you should be more recovered and then you'll start to have memories about the incident."

"A week" Marty muttered. Doc knew why the teen said this – it was a hidden mention to the thought 'another week in the fifties'. He knew the teenager hated the 1950s and hoped he'd have him used to the here and now soon. He sure didn't like the idea of having to deal with a rebelling kid for the rest of the year… or even the rest of the decade.

"Yeah, a week" the doctor answered, mistaking Marty's hidden comment for something else, more obvious. "By that time, you should be pretty recovered. You'll have to stay in bed for the next three days, though, and your headache will be bothering you, but by the end of the month, you'll be the same guy that you were before the accident."

"Great" muttered Marty, sarcastically. "The end of the month. That's another two weeks, at least! Do I have to rest all the time?" He couldn't imagine anything as worse as that.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no" Dr. Pentinson assured him. "You can go up since Thursday morning – maybe you can try a walk from a couple of metres on Wednesday evening already – and the rest of the week you should sit down much, but by next Sunday, you should be able to do more things inside the house. Like helping your uncle with things, as long as it isn't too practical." He turned to Doc. "Dr. Brown, you can't let this patient work with your experiments!"

"Oh no, of course not" Doc assured him – he'd got lots of other things to do then provoking Marty into working for him. "I'll leave him out of that business, you can be sure of that. All I want is my nephew to recover, and having him help with my experiments again could sure be risky – I'm not sure if I even try to do that at all after the incident that happened this time." He sighed, as if he gave something really hard away.

"Good" the doctor nodded, clearly happy now. "Well, Emmett – I hope you keep your promise, and I also hope that your nephew will recover soon. It's such a tragedy what happened to him, and many people have showed their loyalty to him. I guess you'll be getting a lot of flowers and cards today."

"Really?" Doc asked, surprised. He never thought Hill Valley citizens could possibly think positive of him. Well, a major piece didn't think he was nuts, but to exactly send him flowers and cards like the doctor said… he could hardly believe it. It wasn't the news he'd believe easy.

"Yes" the doctor replied. "Me wife and I even sent our wishes to you. I'm surprised you haven't caught them yet – but maybe the post man could be late."

"Yeah, he usually is here at 8.30," Doc answered, "so that would be a little more than half an hour from now. Well, thank you for the wishes, and the help – and I think we should go now. Marty – I mean Calvin is pretty tired right now. I'm not a doctor – not in medicines, I mean – but I think it should be wiser to do not make him even more tired than he is by talking like this in his room where he can hear us. The poor boy really has gone through a hard time."

"Yes, you're right" the doctor replied. "I should go home – I've got patients to see. Well, Dr. Brown, it was nice to see you again, and it was a relief everything is going well with your nephew. I'll come over tomorrow morning at 9AM again to check upon your nephew again, okay?"

"That shouldn't be any trouble" Doc replied, smiling. The doctor smiled back and went off. Doc took a chair and went down to sit next to his friend, trying to think everything over once again. Marty had finally woken up, now, and seemed to be on the bettering hand. But how would he break the news about "you're stuck in the past" to him? He couldn't do it. At least, not yet. Maybe he'd better wait a day or two, or three… and when Marty was be able to walk again, show him the DeLorean's remains.

Sighing, Doc stood up and went to walk around. It wasn't exactly his favourite duty, but he wanted to do something – as already mentioned twice before, waiting was something the inventor hated. Detested. It horrified him. And especially now, now he didn't know why he was waiting. And that was something he possibly hated even more – waiting for nothing at all.

So, if he was waiting for nothing, why on earth was he waiting?

Yup – there he went. Another question about how, where, when and why stuff. Doc had started to hate those things in the past two days. They made him get pretty much sick. Of course he tried to do not think about them too much because he didn't want to worry such a lot with Marty's health to be concerned about. Of course that was more important than these stupid things.

But right now, Marty's health was good. And maybe he wouldn't have to wake again – Marty didn't have to be checked up on waking. He could just write a little note, and Marty would understand that his friend was still asleep.

Doc began to think of the future. Now he had Marty accompanying him, he wouldn't have a lonely Thanksgiving 1955. He wouldn't have a lonely Christmas 1955. He wouldn't have a lonely Easter 1956. Or a lonely thirty-sixth birthday Or all other celebrity days and stuff like that that would come in the new year…

Doc wanted to force himself to do not think these things, especially not in Marty's presence, but his mind didn't care. His mind was filled with joy because the loneliness was gone off crying and the accompany had, in the form of Marty McFly from the year 1985, after having spent _years_ alone in his mansion finally come…

The clock striking 8 woke Doc Brown up out of his thoughts of the future. He began to eat his slice of bread again, and drank his coffee. For once, he tried to forget that he was used to start his day with a cup of tea – these days were different. The normal days weren't including a seventeen-year-old staying at his mansion, or a time machine which was or smashed or in it's earliest stages of being build…

"How confusing has my life become," Doc realised, "since I have invented time travel. What I lived through in the past nine days were experiences of a lifetime." Sighing, he added: "I wonder why I never got strain all those days. Another person would go mad of them. Or maybe it is, because I…because I…"

_Because I finally felt the use of my life. _

The inventor suddenly realised he had never felt this before. He'd been treated badly and teased all around as a kid, because he was smart. Strickland, who was still hoping to be vice-principal one day back then, was his worst teacher. Nothing was too good for him. The future doctor in science had delivered reports that Einstein couldn't make and still they were rated "too low" by Strickland. And finally, Doc had began to think they were true, that he was a slacker and a nutcase and that he should be thrown in a mental institute for the better of the world.

It had become worse, especially because of himself. He had forced himself to do better, and every time he hadn't made his reports good enough he had accused himself to be a slacker, like Strickland said, and told himself that he should never have been born – that would free the city from lots of problems that he caused. He even got home crying, however he was already in his late teens back then.

In the year 1940 he had finally learned to have some self-respect. Strickland was fired from college for treating him so bad, and he'd made himself into the university. He had moved up his grades, he had grown smarter and smarter while the time passed. And in late 1944, he finally reached his doctorate. From then on, the twenty-four-year-old was _Doctor_ Emmett Lathrop Brown. A thing he'd been really proud of.

But the use of his life had never came. He knew he was a doctor, and that he was one of the smartest persons of Hill Valley, but there was no use to be spotted for him in that. He never thought he could be from any use for any person of Hill Valley.

And now, a seventeen-year-old had came who did need his help. And he, not wanting to be put down again, had thrown all his power in this experiment. He finally felt no useless anymore.

"But now?" Doc thought. "Now I've failed. I've failed to send Marty back home, back to the

future. Marty will be dead angry on me when he finally will hear the news. And – and that's the worst – he'll be completely in his rights. I did, indeed, fail."

Sighing, the inventor got up and grabbed his puzzle book. He could not easily put his mind off the subject – it bothered him really much – so he figured he'd might as well do something else, hoping that would work. And yeah, this time luck was with him. The scientist got completely onto the puzzles, and forgot for a moment the world that surrounded him.

That was, unfortunately, not for very long.

"Doc?"

The scientist looked up and faced his eyes to the spare room. While standing up and walking towards it, he responded: "Yes, Marty?"

"My head hurts" the teen softly responded.

Doc smiled, as he entered the room. That was for two reasons – because of Marty had asked a stupid question, since it was natural for your head to hurt when you had it slammed to the edge of a car in an accident, and because of the position that Marty was lying in. The teen was in a position in which no-one would survive in – head on the edge of the pillow, feet almost on the ground, arm under his head, other arm just lying above his stomach – it didn't look like a position where anyone could lie in for a few seconds, let alone sleep in it. But, as it seemed, Marty had only just moments ago waken up.

"Well, it's quite natural for your head to hurt" Doc replied, feeling he had to say something in reply and felt shy to say everything he thought about how stupid Marty was lying. "If you want, I'll get you an aspirin. That should help you to recover some more, and it should be able to kill the pain for a couple of hours."

Marty managed to make a smile. "Thanks, Doc" he uttered. Doc smiled back in response. "You're welcome" he answered and went off to get the aspirin, being watched by Marty, who was feeling uneasy about the whole situation. "Well" the teen muttered, "at least he's trying to help me. I should act more nice towards him – after all, I could've been killed in that accident, whatever it was exactly, if it wasn't for him." He figured out, that that was indeed a good thing to do.

So why couldn't he do it… and felt he like Doc was sort of betraying him by holding knowledge he needed to know behind? Why did he feel like…the Doc was _lying_ to him?

oooooooo

Lying in bed silently, without having anything to do but sleep, or talk to Doc when he was around, was boring, Marty McFly concluded. He actually had to do this – and for quite a while, as it seemed to be, since he was going to be released from bed on Thursday morning… and maybe for a short walk on Wednesday evening. That was, however, still two and a half day away, even three in the first case, since it was at the moment still Monday morning, at not even nine A. M – the clock said 8.58.

Doc had brought him an aspirin a quarter ago – he had apologised for that he was so late, but that he didn't have any aspirins anymore and that he actually had to get them from the shop up town – and since a few minutes, it indeed seemed to work, as he felt a little more relaxed and had a little less pain. He should then now be sound asleep, and giving his body some rest – some rest that it needed. Marty, however, didn't felt the need for any of this. He was still awake.

Oh yes, he knew he had to be asleep. Or at least, that he was supposed to be asleep. He had then also decided to pretend to be sound asleep when Doc came to check up on him, as he did every half an hour. But he really didn't thought he needed the sleep. He was wanting to be awake, wanting to think about every little confusing thing that moved around in his head, all questions going about why on earth Doc was hiding a secret – whatever it was for him, that he obviously needed to know. He puzzled about it every single minute that he was awake, but still he hadn't found the solution of the problem, yet. He simply couldn't think of an idea of what it could be. He simply couldn't.

"Marty?" Doc asked him, as he re-entered the room. He was holding a croissant on a small tray, and there was a small cup of tea next to it. "I've made some breakfast for you. I'm not sure if you're be able to eat it, though." Sighing, he added: "That's why I made it in little pieces. Maybe you're be able to eat it better, then. I'll give it to you with the fork, and pull it in your mouth…"

His line didn't get finished. "Doc!" Marty exclaimed. "I'm not a baby! There's no way I'm gonna just let you feed me like that! You can do that to infants, but not to me! Hell, I bet you've never even fed babies before!"

"Well," Doc replied, "you may not be a baby but you _are_ someone who's had an accident. I want you to rest as much as possible, and if that includes feeding you, I'll do that as well. It's for your own better, Marty."

"Sure" Marty replied, sarcastic. "It's for my own better to be treated like a little child. Sure, Doc. Like I believe that."

"Martin Seamus McFly!" The voice shouted through the room, making Marty shiver a little bit. Doc '55 obviously knew his full name – maybe he'd checked the drivers license in the time the teen had been out. "Don't you dare to say things like that again! I sure don't think you're like a baby or have to be treated like a baby. I just… I just care for your health a lot, Marty." The inventor began to talk much softer now, causing Marty to look up in a bit of surprise. "I've been starting to like you in the past few days you've spent here, and I understand how much my future self cares for you. And I do, as well. So when I believe it's better for you to have as much rest as possible, I take care you have." He sighed. "Like I said – it's for your own better, Marty."

The seventeen-year-old looked up. "Maybe you're right, Doc" he shrugged. "Do it like you want it to do."

Doc gave him a faint smile. "Thanks, Marty" he replied, as he began to feed the teen the croissant.

oooooooo

Marty McFly sighed, as he was feeling tired again. He'd eaten the croissant Doc gave him half – he did kind of like it, but his body obviously hadn't recovered enough from the accident, whatever it had been, to eat the whole thing – and afterwards, he'd slept for half an hour. Now it was 9:35, and he had just woken up, bored as every time.

Marty knew he couldn't get any distraction from Doc – the inventor was gone off to the city to buy Marty some new clothes, adding a line "you'll need them" to it. That did even more confirm Marty's suspicion to the guess that Doc was hiding something for him. Something about the time machine, most likely. How serious had the machine been damaged? And more to the point, how much of that could be repaired?

Marty tried to think about how much he could remember from before. Well, that hadn't changed much – almost nothing. He could indeed remember the dance, and afterwards heading to the Square. Or wait… now he also remembered how he'd parked a few hundred metres before the Square to change clothes. The teen grinned, as he guessed Doc probably would have worried really much about where the hell he was. If only he could remember that…

The teen began to think more about time travel. The moment Doc had told him he'd invented a time machine – out of a _DeLorean_ – Marty had thought Doc was crazy, no matter the ten years he'd known him and learnt that the inventor wasn't actually nuts at all. But after he'd showed him Einstein's successfully return, and told him about the time circuits and about the flux capacitor he'd came up with on November 5, 1955, Marty had believed him. And he had been enthusiastic about the fact that time travel had proven to be really possible, and had contained a small piece of hope that his best friend would actually let him travel through time with the machine one day in the not-too-distant future. But unfortunately, that opportunity had come way too soon.

"_And now I'm stuck"_ hammered through Marty's head. _"Stuck. Stranded. A thirty years ago… and home's further away than any vehicle can bring me there. The only vehicle that could, is destroyed." _

"_Who says that?"_ another voice in Marty's head asked. _"Who says the DeLorean is destroyed? Never conclude before you've seen it's true. The DeLorean could as well be damaged not too serious, and you could be home before the end of the month."_

Hoping that that was indeed the truth, Marty fell asleep for once again. Life sure was confusing… when your best friend was the proud owner of a crashed DeLorean time machine.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey sorry that this chapter took me so long! I've gotten a big liking for some writers like Kristen Sheley, so I rather read than write when I'm behind the computer. So that's why it took so long. Next chapter will most likely be shorter, and also the last one. Then I'll concentrate myself on my other stories - am not sure which one, though.

Read and please, please review!

**Chapter Five**

_Monday, November 14, 1955  
06:30 PM  
Hill Valley, California_

"Marty, are you sure about this?"

"Doc, when I say I'm sure, I'm sure." The teen grinned at his older friend, who was standing next to the bed. "Do you think I'd let you go if I felt sick?"

"No" Doc muttered, clearly not sure what to do. "But… it only has been eleven and a half hour since you've woken up… I mean…no offence to you, but…"

"It's fine, Doc" Marty replied. As he saw Doc's surprised face, he added: "I'm telling the truth, Doc. It's really fine. You should go attend the party."

The 'party' the teen was talking about, was in this case the party Marty's one-day-to-be grandfather, Arthur McFly, had asked Doc to attend to "take his mind off the business with your nephew". It was being held in Hill Valley's High School, as some sort of town's celebration. It was all based on the party that had been celebrated on the night Hill Valley's clock tower had been founded – September 5th, 1885. This week was themed a 1880s week, and tonight was the opening of it, as some sort of 'memorial' to the clock stopping working two days earlier.

"But…" the scientist sputtered, "the lightning bolt was especially from great importance to you and me. If you can't go, I don't wanna go either."

"Well, if you repair the time machine and send me back home, I guess your future self might allow me to take a trip back here, when he's repaired the time machine so this incident won't happen again" Marty answered. "I should look out to do not run into you, then… but I could always disguise myself so you won't recognise me."

The mention of sending Marty back to the future – where the scientist sure wasn't ready for, yet – made Doc go a little pale. "Yeah, you probably could" he responded. "I guess I should go to the party, then. You know where everything is… oh yes, I forgot. You have to take your medicines at approximately 6:58 PM. That's a twelve hours after you first woke up. Doctor's advice."

"Good" Marty promised. "You go attend the party – I'll be fine." With a grin, he added: "See you in the future, Doc. When you come back from the party, I mean" he quickly added when Doc looked a little cryptic at his comment.

"Right" the scientist muttered. "I guess I have to leave you alone, now. Well, I hope you've fun alone in the house. You can watch a couple of good 50s TV series that are up right now. I hope you find them interesting – there is also one about science but I don't think you'd like that." Thinking, he added: "Maybe you could watch Science Fiction Theatre. It's every Saturday and Monday – and you might find it interesting to watch what your teenage Dad uses to watch."

"Yeah, I guess I might" Marty nodded. "I'll try Science Fiction Theatre, then. How late is it up?" In fact, he wasn't really interested in what his Dad watched – since the only thing that had his interest right now was getting the hell out of this place and back to the future – but he figured there was not much else to do on an evening in the past where you didn't have your favourite guitar and the rock music that you had on you had already been played millions of time.

"Marty…" Doc tried again, begging the teen. "If you don't want me to go…" He was immediately cut off by the teenager. "Doc, when I say it's fine, I mean it! Don't get suspicious any moment!" He calmed down. "Really Doc… it's fine. I promise you. And if I will get in problems…," he saw Doc shiver by that, "… I'm sure they'll be solved easily. Truly Doc, you can go if you want to. I hardly doubt that you weren't asked to come in the original timeline… and there you hadn't got a teenager to care about. So then you should right now act like you haven't got one, too."

"Good" Doc nodded. "I'll go." Then he remembered the question Marty had asked. "Actually, Science Fiction Theatre is on TV from 9 to 10 PM. So you'll have to please yourself with some other things in the meantime." He sighed. "Well, I have to leave. See you tonight – and oh yes, remember my warnings about the pills you have to take. The doctor didn't just leave them for nothing."

"I will, Doc" Marty promised, as he watched Doc smile and head off. He listened as the inventor's footsteps softened and he finally heard the door close. Then, the teenager turned around and breathed a deep sigh.

"Well," he muttered, "I guess I'm alone in the house now, then. Wonder if Doc gets angry if I try to sit, instead of just lie down." He tried to sit up, but unfortunately luck wasn't on his side and it didn't went through. Finally, he stopped trying and sighed. "I'll have to watch TV from this position, then. Am I lucky that Doc at least did think to leave the remote next to the bed." He moved to the television, as far as that was possible, turned the 1950s machine on and started watching. Maybe temporary living in the 50s wasn't that bad.

oooooooo

Marty had been right, Doc admitted, glancing over at the festivities 1880s style that were going on all over the Square. This was, indeed, fun to join.

He was sitting at the bar that Lou's Café had placed in the party for the event – not that he could drink anything, he'd pass out of one shot alcohol, but it was the only place that had a couple of good seats – and glancing over at the crowd that was either dancing to the 1880s music that was being played or just walking around. For one moment, he felt sad that Marty had not been able to join the festivities. He would've liked a memorial for the clock tower – as it meant quite a lot for both of them, now. For one week, it had been their only hope… a hope that was shattered into little pieces, now.

Trying to get some distraction, Doc glanced over to the clock. It was only 7:15 PM – the party hadn't completely started, yet, but many people were around already. The inventor had never known that Hill Valley contained so many habitants who were proud of the tower. Looking at the clock, he wondered if Marty had taken his medicines. He'd ordered him to do so, but the teen could, in his stubborn mind, have refused…

Doc tried to push the thought away. He didn't want to worry about Marty right now, and he knew the teen didn't want it himself, either. After all, he had come to the party to have some fun, and that would completely be messed up by all those worries he had about what would happen at this moment at the Brown's mansion.

He then spotted Goldie Wilson, the young black café cleaner, sweeping the bar. The guy had obviously also spotted Doc, and walked over to him. "Good evening, Dr. Brown!" he called. "It's nice to see you here tonight… at least there is one person I can talk with about normal business." He pointed up to the clock, which was still reading 10.04 PM, and sighed. "Don't you think they're worrying way too much about that stupid thing? I mean, they even give a party about it." He shrugged. "It's only a clock. If you ask me, all that nostalgia-business is complete nonsense. If you wanna be somebody in life, you shouldn't worry about unimportant stuff like a clock. Just replace the thing, I'd say. But then again, who am I?"

Doc chuckled inside about that. He remembered Marty telling him that Goldie would in the future eventually become the mayor of Hill Valley – as he was, from where the teen came from, actually running a re-elect campaign. As it looked like now, the cleaner was heading towards a pretty good future.

Right then, he recognised Arthur and Sylvia McFly, George's parents, heading in his direction. George himself was walking behind him, talking with Lorraine. The inventor stood up. "Arthur, Sylvia!" he greeted. "Nice to see you here tonight. I must say, this is a nice party that you've advised me to go to. Then again, they're worrying a bit much about a clock." Actually, he didn't think that, since the clock tower had started to mean a lot to him and Marty, but he tried to do what he'd originally do, and in the first timeline he had no such an encounter with a teen from the future who could only go back with a lightning bolt, and therefore no real interest in keeping the clock un-repaired or replaced like it currently was.

"Yeah" Arthur nodded. "Still, I can understand them. That clock has been in Hill Valley for my entire life… it would be sad to see it go, even when it's replaced by a much nicer clock. Call me nostalgic, but that's just my opinion on the subject." He smiled as he saw the seat next to the inventor being empty. "Could my family and I take those seats next to you by any chance?"

"Of course, sure" Doc gushed. "After all, those seats are owned by the Café and not by me. I haven't got any rights to stop you from sitting on them." He watched as Arthur, Sylvia, George and Lorraine took the seats. George sat next to him, then came Lorraine, then Arthur and then Sylvia. The inventor thought it was funny that he had to run into Marty's future family on this evening. If Marty would ever go back here from the future, he sure had to avoid them from running into him – especially when they expected that he was lying half unconscious on a bench in the Brown's mansion!

The thought about Marty going back to the future saddened him a bit, because he knew that that would be practically impossible. The DeLorean had been practically wrecked – there was no way he'd be able to rebuild the thing, especially while he had to keep himself busy with completing the original one. Marty was stuck here, for as long as it would take, and it _would _take long – he was sure of that.

"You're quite silent, Dr. Brown" Lorraine noticed after a few moments. "What's the matter? Is something happened with Calvin?" While George and Lorraine both knew "Calvin Klein" 's middle name Lorraine still used Calvin – because she simply thought that it sounded much cuter than Marty Klein.

"Oh no, no, no, Marty's fine" the inventor responded. "Actually, he's doing pretty well. He is at home now… resting from the day being up. People use to do that when they are sick." He continued: "I think he's on the bettering hand. The doctor said that he should be able to walk at earliest Wednesday evening, but I think that Wednesday morning could also do it."

Lorraine nodded. "Understood" she said, smiling. "But, then why are you so silent? Or is it like you couldn't finish your experiment since Calvin got struck in that accident?" As Doc nodded, because it was, in some sort of way, the truth, she nodded understanding. "I already thought so. In High School I've learned that scientists can really focus much on one project… and I guess you're the same."

"Right" replied Doc. "I used to be that way… actually, I still am… but I put those thoughts aside when I saw how badly Marty and the DeL… the vehicle I made for my experiment was wrecked. I really hope that Marty recovers soon, and will understand that I can't have, uh, him go back to his home in, uh, the next two or three weeks."

"I'm sure he'll understand that, Dr. Brown" George assured him. "After all, he can return after those three weeks, can't he? It's not like he will never see his family again."

"Oh no, sure it isn't" Doc quickly nodded, grinning as there was indeed some sort of sense. Marty would have the ability to see his family again – seventeen-year-old George, seventeen-year-old Lorraine, and when his older siblings would be born he would also be able to see them. However this was not exactly like they thought it was… he chuckled at the reminder. How confusing could time travel be sometimes.

"I see you're smiling again" Lorraine observed. "Seeing that, I suppose Marty will be all right." She looked at her future mother-in-law, Sylvia, who just ordered something by Goldie Wilson. "I'd like to have four Pepsi's and four small portions of chips." Turning to Doc, she added: "Also add one for Dr. Brown over here."

"Absolutely not!" Doc protested. "You really don't need to buy me a Pepsi or chips. It's really nice of you to offer, but I truly don't need it." He turned to Goldie. "Cancel that last part, Goldie… it's not going through."

"Aww, Dr. Brown" Lorraine smiled. "Why can't you have fun with us? It's not like we're poisoning you. You could just eat and drink and be happy. After all, we're on a party, aren't we? We're_supposed_ to have some fun. And I guess then it would be for the better if we do have some."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Doc admitted. "Maybe you're right. But let me at least pay for it with my own money." He began wildly to search through his pockets. While the McFly family including Lorraine kept insisting that he didn't have to, he searched through both sides of his jean. "Nope" he muttered. "Must've left it in my jacket."

So the inventor continued searching, this time in his right pocket of his jacket. There wasn't his wallet. So he searched in the left… and went pale.

Doc pulled out a couple of white, ripped apart papers. They looked like they were just written. As Doc looked at one of them, he was amazed as he realised that these pieces of paper were what he thought they were. The paper red: "Do not open until 1985." The scientist jumped into shock, as he realised what had been in his pocket.

He had just found Marty's letter.

_PS: Cliff-hanger! Who don't like cliff-hangers – they're not lucky. No man should skip a part of my story. (Uh… there is something familiar about this line…) _

oooooooo

Marty McFly was, added all the things he'd been doing plus the things he had refused to do, including the times he had looked at the clock to see the time, absolutely and completely bored. He had tried to watch television…there was nothing up at this moment. He had taken a few sucks of the drinks that Doc had set ready for him… they were not tasty, either. He had looked at the clock and watched it jump to 7.20 jump to 7.21 jump to 7.22… Hell, he had even tried to make a puzzle in a puzzle book that was lying somewhere on the table. The kid wondered how and why on earth Doc got a _puzzle book_, but that didn't matter right now. What did matter, though, was that he still was absolutely and completely bored and that it didn't look like there was going to come any change in that, soon.

He sighed. Yeah…what had he thought, when he'd admitted he'd stay at home? That there would be lots of things to have fun? No. Not in nineteen fifty-five. Not in a time period that sucked so much that he could barely believe it. There couldn't be any worse… well, that was with exception of the Old West, which did really drive him crazy. There weren't even electric lights back there! People there had to be really idiots.

But anyway, he wasn't in the Old West. He was in the 1950s, which might suck a little less than the 19th Century… say, 1885… but still was bad. They didn't have coloured television. They didn't have rock and roll. They didn't have Pepsi Free, or a Tab. Lyon Estates was not even build yet. His parents were teens his age. And last but not least, possibly worst of all, his best friend did hardly knew him for 1 ½ week.

Marty sighed, as he really envied his older siblings. They weren't stranded in a time that was not theirs – they were home, safe and sound, in good old 1985. They were in a period where was no time travelling, they were all right. They didn't have to worry about the space-time continuum and Doc getting shot as much as he had. He considered his older brother and sister very, very lucky.

"_Now don't think that way"_ Marty forced himself. _"Doc sure will find a way to get you outta this place. He's right… you'll have to rest. But afterwards, he will sure make you get back to the future. After all, he's the Doc." _

Almost right immediately, the optimistic part of Marty's mind found itself confronting all sorts of facts. If Doc really got a way to get him back home, why hadn't he started with it, yet? If he wanted him to be out of this time before the end of the month, he'd better hurry. There had to be some other way for getting him back to the year 1985… like trying to steal some plutonium. Marty was against the idea himself, because it could get Doc shot (again, or before the original time if you wanna put it that way) but if it was the only solution… he'd rather do it.

Then, he shook his head. No – Doc would never agree with that. First of all, it was dangerous… and second of all, what'd happen if Doc got shot in 1955? Then he died at thirty-five, and could never live to complete his time machine, so Marty would never be here in the first place. That could be a very risky thing to play with, if the teen understood Doc correctly. No, better not use that solution.

Then, what were they gonna do?

oooooooo

Doc was shocked. Since the evening of the lightning bolt, he'd never really thought again about the letter that Marty had put in his pocket, and that he had discovered moments before and that he had been chased after by the teen while it had been less than four minutes until the fabulous lightning bolt…

And now here it was, sitting on the same place as he'd trashed it in during those faithful moments. And at instant, Doc had one thing flashing through his mind – this thing has to be destroyed, no matter what.

And it was so easy. He could just throw it in one of the trash cans, and nobody would ever care. He would have to do quite the job to put Marty off him, but that was all, and after a few days the teen would get to use to the fact that the letter had been destroyed and that there was no option of warning Doc anymore.

Then why felt he like he had to resist? Like there was something even more important than the universe that would be in danger if he would tear up that letter? I have to tell you something about the future, Marty had said. Well, that had been clear enough. And then he had added something when Doc had been up by the clock. In the night I go back you get...

Had that "Oct 26 1985 1:24am" indeed been a coincidence, as he'd guessed when he first saw the time machine's Destination Time after the crash? He'd always install a crash-proof system in something as important as the time circuits. There was no possibility that they had skipped to 1:24 so… the only solution was that they had been re-set so. Had Marty tried a final attempt to prevent whatever happened to his future self?

_In the night I go back you get…_

_I have to tell you what happens in the night…_

_What_ happened? What made Marty so upset? What could possibly have happened in those eleven minutes that made Marty beg him all week about it, that made the teen try to leave his only chance in returning home alone and try one more time to tell Doc about it?

_They found me. I don't know how but they found me. Run for it Marty! _

Who_ on earth found me? _

Doc began to wonder about another problem, which he had already connected with this one earlier on, but now he saw it. Something bad had happened, causing Marty to flee. He had indeed ran for it, and eventually ended up on that fabulous November day that changed Dr. Emmett Brown's life forever…

But what had it been? That was the major question Doc asked himself. And the answer was so simple…he could just ask Marty, or either tape the letter together. But he couldn't… he couldn't do that, it would be for the worse of the space-time continuum… no man should know too much about their own destiny…

Should he?

Lorraine gave him a gentle shake. "Dr. Brown?" she asked. "You're a little silent… again. You look like you've just found something amazing." That was, in some sort of ways, right, but of course Lorraine couldn't know that! "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah" Doc responded, nodding. "Everything is okay, thank you. It's just that… well, you know. There is a problem with Marty, and I truly want it to be solved. He's given me something I just discovered and…" he couldn't continue his line. "Do you mind if I go now?"

"Oh no, sure not!" Arthur gushed. "You'll have to take care of things with your nephew. It's a shame you can't stick around any longer, but we'll have to appreciate that. We're sorry, but whatever needs you goes first, I guess. Especially since your nephew's so sick, now.

"Right" Doc nodded. He turned to the bar. "Cancel that order for me, Goldie. I've got business to take care of." As the black cleaner nodded, Doc left the party. He was really curious how Marty would react, if he'd tell him he'd found the letter. He hoped that his future friend would understand his feelings of throwing it away, as he hadn't been too fond of it earlier on. He truly hoped Marty would, in his sickness, be a bit wiser. After all, the letter could not be too important… could it? Well, that was a thing the future would eventually tell him. And then, he sure wouldn't regret his decision from now.

Would he?

oooooooo

Marty looked up surprised as he heard the door open. A few moments later, a wet Dr. Brown entered, wearing the same coat as he had been when he left. Stunned, the teenager watched Doc take the coat off and lie it away to dry. Then, the inventor first seemed to recognise Marty. "Good evening" he greeted. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

Marty could not answer for a minute, eyes blind locked on Doc, or either, the clock above him – that only was saying 8:03 PM. "Doc!" he called, frustrated. "What the hell are you doing here so early? I thought that party went through until midnight or so!"

Doc nodded. "That's right" he said, smiling faintly. "But I had some business to take care of." He pulled out a few wet pieces of paper, looking old because of the rain. "This."

For a few seconds, Marty didn't realise, staring at the papers. But only then he remembered. "The letter" he breathed. "The letter I wrote to you about your fate last Saturday…"

Doc nodded. "Exactly" he muttered. "And I'm still thinking the same about it, Marty. We can't allow this letter to be red by me – it could cause a major time paradox." As he saw Marty's puzzled looks, he added: "A time paradox is something that erases itself from existence, causing the world to explode. For an example, if this letter caused me to avoid an event that eventually would end up causing us to meet. Then you never could go back and write the letter so it wouldn't happen." He sighed. "And therefore, I'm throwing this in the tight." The scientist was about to do so when he heard a hard yell: "NO!"

The inventor turned around – to see Marty _standing_ next to the bed, walking as fast as he could to Doc. The scientist quickly rushed over and helped him steady. "Marty, what the hell are you doing!" he shouted angrily. "Don't you know you've only woken up from that accident this morning? Hell, you could catch your death right now!"

At the mention of the word death, Marty began to cry, surprising Doc completely. The teen hugged Doc, startling the inventor, who knew no else than to hug back. "Marty…" the scientist muttered, trying to comfort the teen. "It's okay. As long as you sit down your life won't be in danger. Just relax."

Marty looked up to Doc, face covered in tears. "It's not me that I'm worried about, Doc" he muttered. "It's _you_. You're going to get shot by those bastard terrorists and you stop every intention of mine to prevent it."

The inventor's face went pale, as Marty mentioned his death. For a few seconds, it looked like he was going to collapse. Instead, he muttered a soft: "Great Scott!" and sat down next to Marty. "I can't believe this! I… I actually got shot? By terrorists?" As Marty nodded, he hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry Marty. I never knew what I put you through in these past weeks… I thought it was just a simple accident that you felt bad about. Now I understand why you've been insisting doing this so much… and me, simple idiot, have completely ignored it. I feel really ashamed, Marty."

"It's okay, Doc" Marty sobbed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not" Doc responded. "Now I understand everything. The non-stop begging for me to let me know I was going to die. The Destination Time set eleven minutes early, which I thought was because of the crash originally… it was all just because you wanted to prevent my death in the future. Marty, I'll never be able to apologise much enough to you."

"Well, at least you listened…finally" Marty responded. "And that's the main thing. I also felt distressed when you never listened when I tried to warn you – but it's all over now. You're safe… and you'll be safe when the Libyans come." He paused. "About thirty years in the future."

Doc nodded, understanding how this part of the teens memory made him think about things he remembered from _home_, a twenty-nine years, eleven months and twelve days in the future. Like Marty would say, a lifetime away. But how were they going to get him back then when they didn't have any time machine?

Looking down, he saw that the teen had fallen asleep again. Smiling, he got up and went to prepare some dinner for himself – he hadn't had too much, expecting he could get something at the party he'd left in such a hurry. With Marty asleep now, he had no intention to join the party again, so he decided to just stay at home.

After two hours, Doc finally felt the urge to know more about his fate growing inside his body. But he didn't know more than a faint "shot by terrorists" and later on a mention of that the terrorists had been from Libyan origins. Still, that didn't say much – and he could not exactly wake Marty up to ask more, seeing how good the teen was relaxing. He had been very stressed in this very first day he'd woken up – better let him sleep, for a while. After that they could talk again.

But how could he find out more about his destiny then? Maybe there were some things Marty had forgotten to tell him, being sleepy so much, and that were important for him to be protected for those bastards who were gonna shoot of them – only to think some of them might not even have been born yet! – and that would cause his death anyway. Tempted to know more, Doc grabbed the tape and went to construct the letter together again.

It wasn't an easy task, seeing the fact the thing was wet through completely, but finally, after half an hour work – it was 10:40, then – the inventor made it and opened it. The letter red:

_Dear Dr Brown, _

_On the night that I go back in time, you will be shot by terrorists. Please take whatever precautions are necessary to prevent this terrible disaster. _

_Your friend, Marty._

"Looks like he didn't forget anything" Doc muttered, staring at the words written by a young man who one day would probably be his best friend. He could still not believe that he was going to be shot, but he now knew he was – and he could take precautions for it, of course. There was no way he was going to let himself be shot, now.

"Thanks, Marty" he muttered. "Thanks for helping me out. I can't believe I've been so stubborn in the last week. I should've known that what you wanted to tell me was for my own good. I'm sorry."

He putted the letter aside, stood up and went to his bed. Today had been another exhausting day, and made him wonder… what would the future bring?

Well, he would find out, eventually. Right now, sleep was his only concern. Doc lied down, glanced at the clock – which just struck 11, reminding him of the hard time he had when the clock struck 10 in the tower while he was around – and closed his eyes. It was no long before he went off in a deep sleep.

See you in the future.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Yup, here we are again. That was pretty soon, huh? Then again, this Chapter is only thirty-five hundred-something words - which is not really much if you compare it to the earlier chapters I've written. It's the last one, and if people want to complain why I've skipped the morning and early afternoon of November 15th - just send me a PM. I just figured I should place this scene in the afternoon.

For fans of this story I got both sad news and good news. First the sad news: there isn't going to be an update for a while. This story is finished, now, so I won't do any editing on it except maybe altering the chapters a bit, if I think it's necessary. I have to go back to my other stories or else they never get ready. I'm really sorry.

The good news is: This story will one day be having lots of sequels, first one starting at Saturday, November 19, 1955 - 11:45 PM. I'll have to skip those four days then - but, at least I'll be re-starting the story again. Can't write about everything, you know.

Actually, these sequels won't be sequels - they will be the parts of the 'Stranded In A Foreign Time' serie, of which this the Prologue is. Marty copes with being stuck in the year 1955. Will he find someone to replace Jennifer with? How will Doc's life turn out? Please suggest!

Well, I've gotten to write too much in my note. Finally, here's the story. Please read and review!

**Chapter Six**

_Tuesday, November 15, 1955  
03:00 PM  
Hill Valley, California_

Hill Valley 1955 was, once again, _boring_.

Marty McFly stared outside in the rain – his bed had been placed there because Doc needed the place where it was first – and praised his siblings once again happy for not living in such an old-fashioned time like 1955.

It had been three days now. Well, maybe two and a half. And still Doc had not made any progress in repairing the DeLorean. He understood that it could take quite some time before he was be able to start, of course – but this was too far-fetched. Hell, he'd first woken up at about 7am yesterday! Then it had been thirty-two hours since then… thirty-two hours that made no progress to either progress, none of the original one, none of the new second one which Marty had driven up here when he'd arrived ten days ago.

Ten days. It had been ten full days since he'd first arrived at Old Man Peabody's farm, crashing his barn, destroying one of his twin pines that would be in the name of Twin Pines Mall by 1985 and next being almost shot by him. Then he'd met his father in Lou's Café, and gotten hit by his future Grandpa-on-maternal-side's car, and had lied unconscious for the biggest part of the day in his teenage mother's bed. Marty guessed that he was on November 5th still asleep at this time, being adored by his mother who obviously had a major crush on him – at least, that was what she'd showed in the next few days. Worried sick about him and his bruise, just like she would do if he'd get wounded in 1985. A very creepy coincidence, actually. But what would you expect from a seventeen-year-old who saw a cute boy getting hit by her father's car and didn't know anything about time travel, thus absolutely not that that young boy was her future son?

Marty sighed again, and continued to stare out of the window to see the pouring rain drop on the grass next to the Brown's mansion. It was quite a nice sight, actually – to see all that water come down. He got then a little grin on his face, thinking about Doc who was doing shopping in town. He would actually have to _walk_ through that weather, since he'd, wanting a nice walk through the city, on purpose not taken his Packard…

And indeed, a few minutes later he could hear Doc return wet all over him, muttering about all the bad weather. "Great Scott!" the inventor called out, when he entered. "This is the worst weather I've seen in ages in Hill Valley. Strange thing that it isn't raining on other places, but it is here. Really strange."

"Yeah, right" Marty muttered, looking up as the inventor entered – and only then Doc noticed the teen who had been his guest for little more than a week now. "Oh hi Marty!" he greeted with joy. "It's so nice to see you, here. What have you been doing in the past time I was gone?" Then he realised his fault. "Oops, dumb question. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too" Marty answered coldly, "but not because of the question but because of the answer. I wanna get out of bed, Doc. I've been lying in this place for more than two and a half days, if I recall your sayings correctly. That doctor said I can't go out until Wednesday evening, Doc! That's another day and a couple of hours away! And hell, I can't take a long walk until the morning…maybe afternoon… of the seventeenth…" The teenager paused. "This is boring, Doc."

"I understand" Doc nodded, as he comforted Marty. "You'll have to think about the advice, though – if you go out, you could get infected, or sick. You sure wouldn't want that to happen, would you?"

Marty chuckled at the familiar words that were often used by Biff Tannen, only that they were sounding a lot nicer right now. "No, I wouldn't" he replied. "You're right. I should stay in bed… it's just that the '50s are so boring already, and even more when you have to stay in bed all day. I'm looking forward to the day when this is over." He paused, staring at the window where rain was still dropping down to the ground. "When I'm back… back in the future." Before Doc could reply anything to that, he turned around to look at the bag Doc had been carrying. It was quite big, but Marty couldn't say if there was much in it, or not. He finally decided to ask the question that was on his mind. "What all have you bought, Doc?" he muttered. "That bag is… quite big. I don't suppose you need so much extra while I'm gonna leave when the time machine is repaired?"

"Who says you it'll be that easy to repair the time vehicle?" Doc said, avoiding to look right in the teenager's eyes. "You don't know how much exactly it has been damaged. It could take longer than you currently are thinking." On one side, he wanted to tell Marty the truth the teen deserved to know – but on the other side he was still a bit paranoid. Could he do this? Wouldn't Marty get a too big shock off it? He sighed, not knowing what to decide.

Marty chuckled up at Doc, of course not knowing what was going on in the inventor's mind. "Of course you'll be able to repair it easily. You're a genius, Doc. I'm sure you are be able to do it. I'm sure."

"Thanks" breathed Doc, glancing up at the roof as well. Marty's naïve comment had done it, however. "Marty," the scientist muttered as he settled down next to his future friend, "we have to talk." Marty looked up, shrugging. "Sure, Doc, whatever you want" he answered, having no idea what was waiting for him. "Talk all you want. I'm ready." He looked up at Doc as the inventor began.

"Good" Doc first said. "Like you know, you had pretty much damage in that accident that happened Saturday night. What I didn't tell you, though, was that you weren't the only one who had quite some damage done to him. The time machine has gone through quite a hard time, as well."

"Yeah, right" Marty nodded, hoping Doc would soon tell some more. He hadn't heard anything new yet – it was quite obvious that the time machine had been damaged much. In such a crash like that… the vehicle should be hurt pretty well. "How much has been damaged?" he finally asked. "You still haven't told me that."

"Well…" Doc muttered, clearly a bit unsure how to tell. "As I told you, it got slammed against the Courthouse Wall – which doesn't exactly do good to a vehicle like that. The flux capacitor was shattered into little pieces, and the only thing that looked a bit complete was the plutonium chamber. The time circuits still looked intact, but when I touched them they broke apart."

"Good, okay" Marty nodded, curious. "How long will you have to work on it, Doc? Two weeks? Three? Hell, a month?" He paused. "It'll be fine as long as I'm out of here before Christmas, Doc. I'm beginning to miss my rock and roll, plus the coloured television. This black and white thing is boring." As Doc didn't reply, he added: "Hey Doc, say something! The way you act is like the time machine was wrecked or something like that!"

"Marty…" Doc breathed, looking down. "I don't know how to tell you this, but… it _was _wrecked. The time machine was practically destroyed in the crash, and most of the time travel units are irreparable damaged, no matter how much work I'd do on it. Marty, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're stuck here. And this time even a lightning bolt won't matter right now anymore."

"No!" the teenager called, turning pale. "No. Don't tell me you weren't kidding, Doc. Tell me you were making some kind of stupid joke." His face looked white as a ghost. "I can't be stuck here. I told you before… I got a life in 1985 and not in 1955. I got parents who look to be in better shape then they've ever been, if I can take my conclusions from observing their teenage parents. I got Jennifer. Don't tell me I've got to miss all of them, Doc. I don't want to." He looked like he was about to cry. "I _can't_ miss them. Not after all we've been through together."

Doc sighed, looking up. "I… I'm sorry, Marty" he muttered, careful to do not look in the teen's pale face. "But… it's true. All of it. You see, the time machine was damaged already by that tree branch, and then when it hit that trash can it was even further in the progress of getting destroyed. Let alone the wreck that was caused when you were slammed in it against the wall." He paused. "Hell, Marty, why do you think you were bleeding when I found you in the car?"

Marty stared up to the scientist, making clear that he didn't care if he was hurt much worse back then by having his eyes in the same dumb-founded expression as when Doc first told him. "No" he repeated again. "I can't be stuck in the boring '50s. Not without Mom an' Dad, not without a version of you who at least knows me a bit. Not without Jennifer." He sighed. "Hell Doc, do you… do you half understand how much I miss that girl? How much I already have missed her, but put those thoughts aside because I know that I was going to get back to the future safe and sound eventually?" He paused for a second, looking up again. "No, you don't, 'cause you never even had a girl. You never been in love with someone in your entire life… as far as I'm concerned."

"Marty, what makes you even think so?" Doc called. "I have had relationships before, quite a few actually, but they never were so intense as yours obviously is. However, maybe you're right as well. I never really loved someone as a partner, except for my science books and inventions and stuff like that." He smirked. "I might have been wrong with considering my liking for them love, however. I guess you can't see them as a partner, can you?"

As no answer came, Doc looked up and saw that Marty wasn't exactly in reality anymore. He seemed to be off in thoughts – pessimistic thoughts, if Doc guessed it right – and didn't look like he was going to realise his surroundings at any time soon. Doc stood up and walked to the kitchen, hoping that Marty would stop thinking miserable soon. He felt bad for the poor kid, and first realised how good it was to have a friend… a friend who liked you and who you could spend time with. He remembered how he never had someone like that, and figured he had missed a lot in his youth.

oooooooo

Doc had been right – Marty was indeed reflecting on his new situation he'd landed in, and it weren't all positive thoughts. The teen felt really bad as he thought about how he would be forced to spend the rest of his years a thirty years before he was supposed to, to start with boring old 1955, and hoped that he would somehow be able to confirm Doc that he had to build a new time machine, so he, Marty McFly, could go back home.

The wiser part of his mind, however, knew that that was pure nonsense. The Doc he was currently staying with didn't know anything about time machines but very boring theory – about how you shouldn't mess with future events 'cause you could screw history up so and stuff like that – and never had actually build one, while he still had to build the original time machine. Therefore, he couldn't be of any help at all, and the teenager himself didn't know anything about science. He had to face it – he was stuck here, if he wanted to or not. And that felt very, very bad.

"Marty?" Doc asked, as he entered the room, having a serious look on his face. As the teen didn't reply, he sighed. "I could've known. You're still sobbing about the fact that you're stuck here now, aren't you?" As the teen nodded, he smiled. "I already figured that would be the case. And I understand. But it really isn't all too bad to be here back in 1955, Marty. I know that you feel bad about being stranded in this era for quite a while, but I'll do the best to have you as happy as I can get you." He paused, seeing how Marty didn't exactly listen to him. "Honestly, Marty, it isn't all to bad to be stuck here."

Marty jerked up in one moment, shocking Doc a little, and stared at the scientist in a mix of angry and disbelief. "Not all to bad?" he repeated. "Not all to bad? Hell, Doc do you understand this all? Can you believe how it is to miss your parents for who knows how long?" He paused. "Doc, you didn't invent the time machine, or better said: the idea for the time machine until Saturday evening and you haven't made any trips in it – any idea at all how this feels? No!"

As Marty looked up, frustrated, he saw something that shocked him and made his own troubles forgotten for a moment. The Doc was actually trying to do not cry. Tears were in his face when he looked up. "Doc, what…" he tried to ask amazed but Doc interrupted him. "At least you have still got your parents" he muttered, sobbing. "Mine have been dead for a year now. Do you know how much that hurts, Marty? Do you have any clue?" He paused. "Never mind… I shouldn't have started about all this. It is in the past… and it doesn't matter right now."

Marty was stunned. He never knew anything about the fate that Doc's parents obviously had met – when he'd first asked about it back in early '76, a few months after Doc and his first meeting, the fifty-six-year-old had told him that 'they moved away in '48.' No details, or something as terrible as this. 1976 Doc hadn't wanted to tell him – but now it had been 1955 Doc who had spilled the beans to him, a twenty-one years before he first was asked about it. It could have been funny if it wasn't such a sad story. "Doc" the teen muttered. And as the scientist looked up, he added: "I… I… I didn't know. I never did. Your future self never told me about it."

Doc smirked softly. "I didn't?" he asked. "Well, I must've figured that it wasn't important back then. I shouldn't have told you now either – but that comment about you missing your parents and me not knowing how that felt did really hurt. Your parents are alive, even while they're teenagers the age you are and have just started seeing each other. Mine are dead." He sighed. "I've missed them a lot since that fateful accident on March 11, 1954, at nine hours, forty-two minutes and thirteen seconds P.M." Yup, even when it was about sad things Doc was still the scientist. "It was the accident that killed my Dad and made my Mom's brain so shaken up that she went crazy. She finally died, too, on December 27th 1954, at two minutes past ten in the evening. Since then, I've felt really bad…"

The inventor paused a moment or two before continuing his tale. "I had already inherited the mansion in 1943, when Mom and Dad moved to a house in Grass Valley. It was a present I got for becoming a doctor in science. I've visited them quite a lot of times since then, until the accident. They were happy with my visits, as I was their only child." He smiled a bit at the reminder. "But that's all over, now. I have to move on with my life, how bad it might seem. I have to make my time machine because if I don't, you will never be able to go back in the first place… and that would cause a major time paradox. And as far as I'm concerned, I've already told you what happens then, didn't I?" As Marty nodded, Doc produced a faint smile again. "Good. I'll get us some drinks, now, to relax from the sad news we've got – me a year and a half ago, you just a few minutes ago. You can just wait – this doesn't have to take too much time." He sighed and departed the room, leaving Marty behind.

In the meantime, Marty gazed up to the roof of the room he was lying in. This was bad. Half an hour ago he had been depressive too, but at least then he had a bit hope for getting back home. Right now, that hope was gone and the horrifying truth was sinking in.

He was stuck here. Not for another o-so-stressful week, but for the rest of his life… well, at least for the next thirty years minus a few weeks. After October 26th 1985 at 1:35 AM, that horrific date that ruined his life forever, he could move on without any risks of altering history in a major way. But that was still a lifetime away – and when he'd finally reach that date, what was he supposed to do? He would be no seventeen-year-old teenager named Marty McFly who dreamed to be a rich rock star anymore, but he would be a forty-seven-year-old adult named Calvin Martin Klein who had the biggest part of his life already behind him. He couldn't be the rock star he wanted to be at age 47. It was just impossible.

But what the hell was he going to do about that? It was not like he could just try to hide his old age under make-up or stuff like that. First of all, that was for girls; second of all, that wouldn't be able to do it. And even in the future he was sure they couldn't make him look and act younger. They were not be able to hide thirty full years of old age. If someone would tell him that, he'd sign him in for the nutcases institute. Hill Valley had a Mental Institute, but it was almost empty – guys in this city didn't do weird stuff too soon. That was something that happened in Las Vegas or San Francisco, but not here. Still… did it mind?

Marty tried to figure how that would be, seeing all the familiar things come in to town. See how rock and roll would be invented, and how his favourite bands would start to exist around the time he was in his early, mid- or late thirties. The teen figured this might very well drive him crazy, seeing how many things were unfamiliar and finally became familiar in such a large amount of time. That would be _weird._Weirder than being stuck in the fifties on itself.

He could hear Doc fiddling around with the drinks in the other room, but he didn't care if it would take an hour or so. He didn't want to have any drinks as all – he didn't ask for it. So he figured that Doc might as well leave him alone, and let him relax. And yes, that was what was actually happening. He was relaxing, he was calming down, something that he considered to be quite impossible after having heard such horrific news. But yet he was, preparing to go off to sleep. It was probably because of him having such a headache – his Mom had often told him that sleeping healed wounds. Maybe it did heal the wounds in his head, right now.

But would sleeping help for the wound he felt inside his body? Would sleeping help to recover from the fact that he wasn't going to leave this boring time period at all until December 31, 1959? That the world he knew wouldn't be around for a thirty years, an amazing time when you were as young as he was? He figured that it wouldn't.

However, his mind didn't listen. Probably he needed sleep. He had indeed been up for quite a few hours too many every day – not too much time in fact, but still he was wounded and shouldn't be up at all. His eyes began to close slowly, and he felt the rest coming down on him. His brain ran slower, now, and the sounds he could hear, including Doc moving around to get him some drinks, didn't matter anymore. He wanted to sleep. And when Doc entered with two 1955 Pepsi's, he saw his friend sound asleep in once another improbable manner of lying on the bed.

Marty was stuck here, now. In one of the time periods that sucked the most. And he wasn't going to leave it, at least not soon. So the big question remained, how on earth was he going to survive this at all?

THE END (or not, if you consider the sequels as a following-up on this story)

_Author's Note: Well, as you see the story's ended. Thanks for reading and remember what I wrote in the beginning of the Chapter. See you in the future, _

_ EmmettMcFly55. _


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